


Loving You's a Little Different

by oakland30



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakland30/pseuds/oakland30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Uh- Jake, I think? Met him at one of Niall’s ‘get together’s. He’s alright. Nice face.” Louis pulls out a paperback book and squints at its small print, “Won’t be calling him, though."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry sighs, but it’s wasted. Why wouldn’t random boys with nice faces approach Louis in an empty library? The circles under his eyes are puffy and his hair is ruffled from a stubborn night's sleep, but he looks gorgeous. Like he isn’t from this planet.</em>
</p>
<p>Harry's in love with his roommate. Misunderstandings abound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loving You's a Little Different

**Author's Note:**

> title from sunday by earl sweatshirt

It’s only been a few months, so it really hasn’t been long enough to warrant the way Harry feels when Louis looks at him like that- with the intent to kill. 

“It’s too cold, Harry. You didn’t warn me.”

Harry warned him that it was freezing outside before they’d even left their dorm, but he doesn’t mention it. He brings his hand from Louis’ lower back to his shoulder and pulls him in close, trying to keep him warm.

“Where are we headed to, anyway?”

“The library? It’s probably the only thing open at,” He glances at his phone before struggling to stuff it back into his pocket with one hand, “Two in the morning.”

Louis rolls his eyes and leans in closer to Harry’s chest, “Why can’t people get pissed at times that fit into my schedule? This late night partying thing doesn’t sit well with me, Hazza.”

“ _You_ aren’t a fan of late night partying?”

Harry presses into his shoulder to guide them right, watching the curb because he knows Louis isn’t.

“I’m not a fan of other people partying without me.”

“We could’ve gone out if you’d wanted to,” Harry says. It’s true- Harry got bored of the uni parties just a few weeks in, but if Louis wanted to go he’d tag along without complaint.

Louis shakes his head and kicks at a rock on the ground. Harry watches it fly into the side of a pickup truck.

“I’m still a bit hungover from last week,” He says. “Remember how you let me make a fool of myself?” Harry nods even though he doesn’t. He makes a point to keep Louis under control every time they go out. “Sam can’t handle a fit boy’s attention, I guess. He’s saving himself for all the girls that aren’t throwing themselves at him.”

Oh, that. Harry didn’t know he was supposed to care about that- he makes a point to ignore every moment that Louis’ attention isn’t on him.

“Sam has got plenty of girls throwing themselves at him,” He adds instead.

“I know, and I just hope they were enough. He seemed crushed when I’d rejected him.”

Harry scoffs, “You mean when he said he wasn’t interested, and you told him you were too pissed to get it up anyway?”

“I’m too honest when I’m drunk.”

Harry nods but doesn’t respond. He doesn’t bring up his memories of Louis pressed close up behind him, flushed and whispering in slow, warm breaths. They’re nearly to the library doors, anyway, so it doesn’t make for an awkward pause.

Harry holds the door for Louis and Louis smiles in thanks. It’s simple, but Harry’s heart blooms.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more thankful for the library’s existence,” Louis whispers once Harry’s inside. He’s sounds like he’s trying to keep quiet, but he’s still miles away from his inside voice.

“Or that it’s open all night.”

Louis nods and pulls his wallet out from his back pocket, handing it to Harry.

“You head to the vending machines and buy us some crisps while I find us a bedtime story in the erotica section.”

Harry takes the money and heads off without a question. When he finds them hidden behind a fern by the bathroom, he buys every bag of crisps on the top row. He knows that’s what Louis would want.

He struggles to carry them to their table, but he makes it with minimal damage. He takes the Doritos with him when he decides to make the trip to find Louis.

“Lou?” He whispers when he reaches the paper sign labeled “Romance”. It’s covered in crude cartoon cocks.

“Here!” Louis whisper-shouts again, and he and Harry should really have a talk about that. Harry has built up quite a reputation with the library staff, and he can’t have Louis ruining that for him. He’d pick Louis over the library if it came to that, but Louis isn’t conducive to his study habits, so.

Harry turns into the aisle he’d heard Louis’ voice come from and starts ruffling through his bag for a full crisp, “Hey, I bought some- oh.”

He doesn’t bother trying to finish his sentence.

“Hey, Hazza! Look what I found.” He holds up a novel entitled _A Gronking to Remember_. It’s almost enough to tear Harry’s attention away from the hand wrapped around his shoulder, but not quite. “It’s about Rob Gronkowski. I thought you could appreciate that.”

Harry does, and god knows Louis hasn’t shut up about Harry wanting to fuck a football player ever since he’d admitted he watches American football in his spare time. But he can’t seem to get the words out.

Harry must have take too long to respond because the boy at Louis’ side is starting to lean in, his smile shallow. It makes Harry uneasy.

“Call me, yeah?”

Louis nods and the boy walks off, and Harry wants to throw a tantrum because he left Louis alone for three minutes at two in the morning in an empty library. Seriously.

Louis scoffs at the silence and throws the book to Harry, who misses it and has to peel it off the floor. Louis trails his finger down the row as he whispers to himself, and Harry nearly fun of him for taking so long.

It’s screaming in the back of his head and Harry is too tired to distract himself, though, so he just asks what he really wants to ask instead.

“Who was that?”

“Uh- Jake, I think? Met him at one of Niall’s ‘get together’s. He’s alright. Nice face.” Louis pulls out a paperback book and squints at its small print, “Won’t be calling him, though.”

Harry sighs, but it’s wasted. Why wouldn’t random boys with nice faces approach Louis in an empty library? The circles under his eyes are puffy and his hair is ruffled from a stubborn night's sleep, but he looks gorgeous. Like he isn’t from this planet.

It makes him wonder, because he’s never seen Louis take _anyone_ home. He’s seen him flirt with boys at some of the parties Niall invites them to, but he’s always plastered and lax and saying whatever pops into his little head. It never holds any intention.

Someone that looks like Louis, someone that acts Louis, should be having it off weekly, if not nightly. Not that he’d appreciate that happening at the hands of someone else, but it’s still a bit odd.

Harry ignores where his mind is wandering and walks closer instead, “What’re you reading?” 

He lays his head on Louis’ shoulder and wraps his arms around his waist to feel how warm he is underneath his shirt. He can feel the vibrations of Louis’ voice when he responds.

-

They’re on their walk back by the time Harry works up the courage to ask.

“Why haven’t you brought anyone back to our dorm?”

“What?” Louis’ voice is sharp in the cold air. Harry hugs his coat a little closer around his shoulders and waits for Louis’ elbow to bump into his own again.

“I mean- you’re always talking about needing a good lay but, like, I haven’t seen you with anyone since. Well. Ever.” Harry first met Louis on move-in day, but it’s felt like longer, so he has room to talk.

Louis shrugs, “Haven’t thought it about, really.”

Harry isn’t sure what he wanted to hear, but that’s nice enough. He shouldn’t ask questions he doesn’t want to know the answers to, but it’s hard to resist.

“Well, if you leave a sock on the door, I’ll know what to do.” He doesn’t know why he’s saying it, but it feels necessary. Sometimes he feels like a burden- like he’s holding Louis back from experiencing what this university has to offer.

Louis laughs, “And where would you sleep?”

“At Niall’s, probably. His bed’s big enough for the two of us.”

Louis shoves him to the side and Harry’s thankful, not for the first time, that Louis is so much smaller than him. Harry laughs as he stumbles off the curb like he’s drunk, but in reality his stomach aches a little from the conversation they’re having.

“Don’t want to sleep in your bed? Don’t want to hear me taking it like a champ?”

“I- oh, dear god-” Harry leans forward and rest his hands on his knees, pretending to puke on the pavement at the thought. It’s ridiculous, since in reality Harry would take what he could get, but he knows what Louis finds funny, so here he is pretending to vomit on a scuffed up piece of concrete.

“Oh, fuck off. I sound like an angel.”

“I’ve heard you getting off in our bathroom, Louis. You sound like a goat.” It’s true, and the sounds are filed away in Harry’s mental wank bank. He doesn’t sound like a goat, but even if he did it would still be enough to help Harry reach climax.

Louis shoves him again and this time Harry careens into the road a bit. Louis walks on without checking to see if Harry’s alright.

“And who are you to talk about my lack of one night stands? Even when I’m plastered I can see you flirting with every living being in sight. Where are the notches in _your_ bedpost?”

Harry shrugs, “I’m always too busy watching over you to actually convince someone to come back with me.”

Louis stops walking and he turns to face Harry. Harry feels isolated just a few feet away.

He’d wanted this conversation to stay light and easy. He can’t pretend he wants Louis to be with other people when he’s looking him right in the eye.

“If I’m the one stopping you, I could go home with Niall. He owes me enough, anyway.”

Harry doesn’t know how to respond to that. “I- what?”

“I mean,” Louis pulls his hands out of his pockets so he can use them to gesture, and Harry ignores the way his stomach clenches at the sight. “I don’t want to be holding you back from the uni experience, you know? You don’t deserve that.”

Again, Harry’s at a loss for words, so he laughs at the thought that he’d rather have an authentic schooling experience than a plastered Louis clinging to his waist.

“Alright, Lou. I’ll keep that in mind.”

-

Louis’ hair is messy like he’d forgotten to brush it and still hasn’t looked in the mirror. Harry wants to run his hands through it, but he can’t get himself to do it, so he scribbles on the edge of Louis’ notes instead.

“Fuck off.” Is all Louis has to say before he leans over and draws a nice, thick line down the center of Harry’s own notes. Harry smiles.

He zones out for a little longer, trying to pay attention to whatever their Professor is talking about, but it’s hard when this is so unimportant compared to the boy sitting next to him.

Gemma would skin him alive if he said that aloud.

It’s not his fault, though. Louis has this air about him that pulls people close, makes people want to lay their life on the line for him. He’s loud, important, all Harry can look at when he walks in the room.

He leans over to rest his head against Louis’ shoulder before looking up, waiting for Louis to make eye contact with him.

“Hmm?”

“You look nice today.”

Louis laughs and kisses Harry on the forehead, “Of course I do.”

It’s small, but it’s enough to leave Harry’s heart beating faster than it ever has before.

He tries to take deep breathes and find his calm because he knows his reaction to Louis touching him is absurd. Louis’ an affectionate person by nature. He kisses Niall all the time and Niall’s still alive and breathing.

He should tell Louis’ what’s on his mind. If Louis was drunk, he’d kiss him for it.

Those drunk kisses used to be painful, because Harry always laced it with hope- a ridiculous belief that sober Louis might want to kiss him on the mouth, too.

It isn’t as painful now, because Harry knows it’s platonic, but he still lives for the moments when Drunk Louis tells him he thinks he’s the greatest person he’s ever met and ties it off with a peck on the lips.

-

It’s been several days since Harry said Louis should take someone home, and they’ve been yet to bring it up again. It’s better that way - Harry isn’t sure he could handle discussing it again. Not when it isn’t dark and cold and two in the morning.

Now he’s walking back to his dorm with Niall by his side, but he isn’t listening to what Niall’s saying.

“Yeah, seriously,” Harry laughs, hoping that’s an appropriate response.

Niall nods and smiles like it is, which is nice. Harry appreciates Niall, likes having him around as a beacon of positive energy, and he doesn’t want him thinking that he doesn’t pay him the attention he deserves.

“So maybe if I had tried, I could've- oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you that Lou’s got someone over.”

Harry can’t quite process the words. “What do you mean?”

“Someone’s in his dorm, ‘s what I mean.”

Harry’s stomach drops. He’d told Louis that was alright, and he should’ve expected this, but watching it happen makes the air taste stale. He can’t take his eyes off the door.

“That’s alright- glad he’s finally enjoying himself,” Harry tries, nuding Niall in the side with his elbow. He shoots him a look that Harry doesn’t have the time nor energy to decipher. “Am I spending the night with you, then?”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Harry doesn’t know what that means.

“Uh, do you want to?” Niall says.

Harry doesn’t see an alternative, “Well, yeah.”

“Alright, sure, mate. Floor or bed?”

Harry knows he should be thankful to have a friend as great as Niall, but part of him wants to stand and stare at the door for a little longer, no matter how counterproductive that may be.

“Floor, I think.”

Niall continues his story once they’re in his dorm as he pulls out the blanket Harry had given him earlier in the year for this sort of situation. Not these circumstances, of course, but it’s whatever.

Niall drones on while Harry makes a point to focus on nothing but setting up his bedsheets. It’s difficult to _not_ think about something, but he does alright.

He’s so zoned out that doesn’t respond when Niall finishes talking, though, and he wants to slap himself for it.

“You okay, Haz?”

Harry tries to put on his best smile because he isn’t sad, he’s lost, and he doesn’t want Niall getting the wrong idea. He’s never thought about what he’d do if Louis dated someone else. 

He knows he’d told Louis it was alright, but he didn’t think Louis would follow through. Or, rather, didn’t think of the consequences of Louis taking someone home. A one night stand isn’t a steady relationship, but what if Louis’ been seeing this guy for a while? What if he’s in there, with someone Harry’s never met (or, worse yet, someone Harry _has_ met), reaching a relationship milestone?

“Are you sure Louis’ got someone over?”

“Yeah, he told me about it earlier,” Niall says before tossing him his spare pillow.

Harry drops the pillow into places and nods, “Alright. That’s alright.”

Harry tries not to think about some fit bloke kissing Louis’ neck, touching him all over. Tries not to think about where he could be if he wasn’t sleeping on these uneven floorboards.

Niall squints at him and nods in response, “Okay, Haz. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

He lies down and closes his eyes, and part of him wonders if he remembers how to fall asleep. He feels so wired that he isn’t sure he can shut it off.

He wants to toss and turn, but he holds himself still. He pretends to be asleep, hoping it’ll trick his body into following suit.

He suffers through half an hour of fake sleep before he decides it isn’t going to work.

It takes him a second to figure out _why_ it won’t work until it clicks- he hasn’t brushed his teeth.

He feels a bit stupid for not thinking of it earlier- of course he can’t sleep. He has a routine he always does before he can fall asleep, and he’s missing out on that tonight.

He can’t suffer through another sleepless night, especially since he has a Biology test at some point this month. He’ll need his brain cells up and running if he wants to survive this semester.

That settles it, then. He has to go fetch his toothbrush.

He tries to sit up without disrupting Niall, tossing his blanket off his chest while he moves, but he didn’t account for the squeaky floorboards beneath him. Niall wakes up before he’s even stood up straight.

“What’re you doing?”

“Getting my toothbrush.”

“From your room?”

Harry doesn’t respond.

Niall turns on his side lamp and sits up, rubbing at his eyes, “You’re acting weird, Harry.”

He bristles, “I just need my toothbrush. I’ll be back in a second.”

Niall looks like he wants to add something, but he doesn’t, so Harry takes the opportunity to leave without having to argue. Arguing with Niall always leaves an awful taste in his mouth.

He knocks on his door three times before rolling back onto his heels. He could use the dorm key he has in his pocket, but he knows that’s crossing the line.

When the door does peels open, he’s worried he might throw up.

“Yeah?” The voice is deeper than Louis’, and Harry can’t see what the person looks like because the lights are off, but it’s a man about his height, though with shorter hair. 

He would rather be looking down at Louis right now- it’d help to calm him in a way that this stranger can’t.

“I forgot my toothbrush.”

“Uh-” He seems confused, and Harry feels a bit dumb standing in the corridor all alone. “Okay. Come in, I guess.”

Harry smiles and walks in as the boy opens the door a bit more, stumbling to find the bathroom. Louis hasn’t spoken yet, and now Harry feels ridiculous. He should’ve suffered through the night- how is he going to make eye contact with Louis tomorrow when he’d interrupted what was probably an excellent lay?

He closes the bathroom door behind him before turning on the light and leaning into the counter. He makes eye contact with himself, checking in to make sure he’s standing and functioning. The dim lights make him look sickly, but underneath that he seems fine. He’s going to be alright, then.

He grabs his toothbrush but pauses when he hears whispers coming from the room. Louis’ probably apologizing for his behavior.

He sighs and turns the doorknob, bracing himself to leave when he doesn’t feel any better whatsoever.

“Hey, man. I was just heading out.”

“I-” Harry doesn’t bother finishing his sentence. Doesn’t know what he was going to say.

He can see the guy pulling on a t-shirt, and he doesn’t want to know how undressed he’d been earlier.

“You don’t have to do that- I’m spending the night at a friends.” Harry tries.

“No,” The guy laughs. He sounds like a good person, and Harry feels like a piece of shit. “It’s fine, Louis and I’ll just meet up later. Right, Lou?”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll call you, alright?” Louis’ voice sounds smooth and steady. Harry’s almost envious.

He doesn’t want to be affected this. He wishes he’d been able to lie on the ground and sleep as if Louis’ personal life made no impact on his own.

Instead, he’s here. Alone in the middle of the room after interrupting what is really none of his business.

“Yeah, sure.”

Louis giggles and Harry ignores the sound.

“Bye, Liam.”

Liam smiles, and Harry can make it out in the dim lighting from the bathroom’s cracked door. It’s very white. “Bye, Louis. Bye, Louis’ roommate.”

Harry tries to deliver his best smile, too, but it probably looks a bit creepy. Whatever. “See you.”

Liam shuts the door gently, and the room stays silent for a few beats.

“Haven’t seen you at all today,” Louis eventually says.

“Yeah, Niall and I had some much needed bonding time.” He pauses, then adds, “Didn’t think you’d act so fast on my advice, by the way.”

Louis freezes, his eyebrows furrowed, “What advice?”

“That you could bring someone home.”

Louis’ quiet for a second and readjusts on the bed, “I’ve been getting bored lately.”

Harry hums and stands to shut off the bathroom light. He takes the moment that he’s facing away from Louis as a chance to compose himself. He feels overwhelmed and he can’t articulate why.

He tries his best to avoid tripping on his way back to his bed because now is not the time to look like an idiot. He makes it, and he lets out a heavy sigh as he pulls his covers to his chin.

“Night, Lou.”

“Night, Haz.”

The uneasiness in Harry’s veins lasts through the entire night.

-

Niall sighs and swirls his straw again, “Listen, this is dumb, Harry.”

Harry wants to act affronted, but he knows it’s true. He hasn’t told anyone that he has major feelings for his tiny, loud roommate, but it also isn’t a secret. He feels like never saying it out loud will help cushion the blow when he has to admit defeat on this venture.

“I know, but.”

“Just ask him on a date, Haz. I don’t see why you make everything so _complicated_.”

Harry scoffs, “Ask him on a date? He’s already going out with other people. What if he’s, like, involved with this Liam guy? Do you know how humiliating that’d be?”

Niall pauses and looks up at Harry, but Harry can’t get a read on him. They sit in silence until Niall sighs and reaches for the ketchup bottle, “I don’t know, just stop complaining. It’s been months. This isn’t exciting anymore.”

Harry doesn’t disagree. Harry loves spending time with Louis, and Louis keeps their friendship interesting, but sitting up late at night because he’s fighting the urge to crawl into bed with Louis is tiring.

It’s worse, though, when Louis crawls into _his_ bed and Harry has to stay up late to fend off an erection. He’d never be so tasteless if he had a choice, but his cock has a mind of its own. It’s a constant battle.

Harry decides to change the subject.

“There’s no way in hell that you need that much ketchup.”

Niall shrugs, but he doesn’t look sheepish, “Never had it before I came here- it’s incredible. Try some.”

“I’ve had ketchup before.”

“Whatever.”

After Niall’s done ingesting a dangerous amount of corn syrup and tomatoes, they head back to Conover. He still feels like Niall’s holding something back, but whatever it is, it’s probably for the best.

Harry tries not to think about it and instead takes the snapback off of Niall’s head, racing him home.

-

“So what would you think if, like, _I_ brought someone home?” Harry calls, talking loud enough for Louis to hear him through the bathroom door.

Harry wants nothing more than to fall asleep, but he doesn’t allow himself the pleasure. He hasn’t even done anything to warrant how tired he is- all he did was go to lunch with Niall and take a study break with some of his classmates. He enjoys people, and he enjoys talking to them, but once he’s alone he loses his momentum. 

There’s a clatter from the bathroom, but Louis is quick to cover it up, “We already discussed this. Just leave something on the door, and I’ll spend the night with Niall.”

Louis isn’t like that at all. Louis can keep going for hours and hours. Louis is uninhibited in a way Harry never will be. Louis doesn’t feel the need to please everyone he meets- just the ones he feels deserve him.

That’s why Harry has friends all over campus and Louis only has a few close ones.

It’s also why Louis is happy with those relationships and all Harry wants to do is go to sleep after an easy day. Small talk is like a job, and Harry’s really, really good at it, but he isn’t proud of his need for it.

“Alright.” Harry nods, “Yeah, alright.”

“I’ll read Niall a bedtime story of all the disgusting things you and your boy toy could possibly be doing.” He’s yelling over the sound of the faucet, and Harry hopes their neighbors can’t hear them.

“Don’t- you’ll scare him.”

“‘Oh, fuck me harder! Is that a piercing? Oh, Harry, you’re _so_ hot.’”

Harry can’t deny that Louis’ voice gets him thinking, but he presses on regardless. This isn’t the first time his brain has wanted to take one of Louis’ jokes a bit too far.

“I’m going to literally staple your mouth shut.” He says instead.

Louis turns the faucet off and opens the bathroom door.

“Get the laptop out, then.”

Harry remembers that they’d agreed to watch a movie, and it helps to wake him up. Louis isn’t draining- Louis doesn’t require small talk. Louis gives Harry a sense of comfort and security he can’t find in anyone else he’s ever met.

Louis turns off the lights and motions for Harry to scoot over. Harry leans into where his bed meets the wall so Louis’ got plenty of room to sit, but Louis doesn’t bother taking it. He plants himself right next to Harry with their thighs touching and his head resting on Harry’s shoulder. Harry doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around Louis’ waist and lean his head on top of Louis’.

Louis takes the laptop from Harry’s lap and goes to pull up Google, “What’re we watching?”

He takes a second to answer, staring at the gaunt of Louis’ cheekbones from the laptop’s dim backlight, “I’ve always wanted to see The Conjuring. It’s supposed to be good.”

Louis looks up at him, and his eyes look striking. Harry’s heart starts beating faster when he realizes how close they are, “Also heard it’s really scary.”

Harry cocks his head, “Isn’t that the point?”

Louis shrugs, “I- yeah.”

“Well I’m right here. I think you’ll be fine,” Harry would appreciate a scared Louis on his hands, because Louis likes to cuddle when he’s nervous.

Louis pauses a moment before turning back to the screen, “Alright, but I’m not comforting you when you can’t sleep.”

“Yes you will.”

Louis hums in response while pulling up the movie. He’s sitting against the headboard, so Harry takes the opportunity to lean his head against Louis’ chest.

The movie starts with Louis laughing at the tension, pretending he isn’t scared one bit, pretending horror movies don’t even phase him. He’ll wrap an arm around Harry’s shoulder and try his best not to flinch.

It ends with Louis cuddled in Harry’s lap with his face pressed in Harry’s shirt. He screams when he thinks something _might_ be scary, and his breathing has gone heavy. Harry would try to calm him but he’s worried any sudden movements will make things worse.

One of the older daughters on the screen is tucking in her younger sister when something in their wardrobe starts banging. Harry tightens his arm around Louis’ shoulder instinctively.

She walks closer to the wardrobe, and Harry is so glad Louis is this close to him. It makes the movie just the slightest bit less scary.

She opens the doors and Louis lets out a noise, kicking back into Harry’s chest and knocking the laptop over. Harry can’t take his eyes off of the screen.

The younger sister sits up in bed and looks nervous, and that’s when the camera pans up to show the witch sitting above the dresser, ugly and hissing.

Louis lets out a real scream at that and slams the laptop shut, letting it slide off of Harry’s legs. Before Harry can register what’s happening, Louis is climbing into his lap. Their chests are touching and Louis’ arms are around his waist and Harry’s stunned. Louis’ head is tucked into his neck and he can feel his warm breaths against his skin. He isn’t going to complain, so he just rests his hands on Louis’ hips and lets him calm down.

“Not a fan of horror movies, Hazza.” Louis laughs dryly, but he still sounds nervous.

Harry nods, and he can feel where their crotches are practically touching. Now is not the time for an erection, so Harry tries to imagine the witch’s face from the movie and not how soft Louis feels against him.

“Couldn’t tell.”

Louis pinches the skin on the back of Harry’s neck, “Piss off.”

They sit there for a moment, Harry tipping his head back, trying to take it in. He and Louis cuddle all the time- Louis is a tactile person- but this feels so intimate that Harry doesn’t know what he’s meant to do. He wants to kiss Louis on the mouth, but he settles for his temple.

Louis pulls back and settles on Harry’s thighs, making eye contact so direct that Harry wants to squirm. He doesn’t, of course, because he’s still worried about the decision’s his cock will make when Louis’ this close to him.

Louis doesn’t say anything, just stares, but he has just the hint of a smile on. His eyes are soft and his hair isn’t done, stuck to his forehead from where he’d been trapped under Harry’s arm. His shirt is too big because it’s Harry’s.

He’s obviously still a little on edge from the movie, but he’d never admit to it. If Harry asks, he’ll pinch him and tell him to fuck off. Say he was faking being scared so Harry wouldn’t feel so embarrassed about his girlish screams.

Harry wants to kiss him more than he’s ever wanted anything.

Instead, he laughs and flicks Louis on the cheek, “You want to keep watching?”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to handle it.”

The movie is scary, but it didn’t shake Harry to the core. He could survive the rest of it, he thinks.

But that isn’t what Louis wants to hear, so he just nods and brings his hands to Louis’ waist.

“Yeah, maybe we should head to bed.”

Louis smiles and Harry lifts the covers for them to slide underneath. They lie there in their jeans, and it isn’t comfortable but Harry’s so thankful that Louis is close to him that he keep his mouth shut.

He also doesn’t say anything when Louis laces their fingers together while he says goodnight.

-

Harry isn’t anywhere _near_ drunk enough for this.

He has Niall’s arm slung around his neck, and the weight of it is threatening to topple them both over. If they’re going down anyway, Harry would rather be plastered while it happens.

“Hey, Ni, I’m going to go grab another beer.” He’s shouting, because the music is loud and everyone within earshot is too pissed to care, “You want one?”

“No, I’m good,” Niall’s shouting loudly, too, but that’s because he’s Irish and comfortable. He gets loud when he’s happy.

Niall isn’t drunk, though, and that strikes Harry as strange. The first thing he does when he walks into anyone’s home is ask where the alcohol cabinet is, but Harry hasn’t seen him take as much as a sip all night.

He adds it to the list of everything else that’s been off this evening and tries to move on.

His beer is so cold it’s left marks on his palm by the time he reaches Niall and the girl he’s talking to. Niall’s arms come up to its natural resting place on Harry’s shoulder again when he’s within distance.

“I’m just saying that a _good_ friend wouldn’t enable him.” The girl in front of them says. She looks easy and confident, her back against the wall as she takes another sip of whatever she’s drinking.

Niall hums in response and turns to Harry, “Hazza, am I a good friend?”

Harry shrugs, “You always make me sleep on the floor when I come over.”

“You’re lucky I’m letting you sleep in my room at all,” Niall scoffs.

“You don’t even have a roommate.”

“And that’s the way I like it.”

Harry smiles through his sip of beer. He isn’t sure whether he should bring it up, but it’ll eat at him if he doesn’t.

“Hey, do you think it’d be dumb to try and pull tonight?”

Niall’s arm goes limp across his shoulders. It takes him a few seconds to respond.

“This isn’t about the Louis thing yesterday, right?”

Harry wants to feel offended that Niall would mention that, but he knows it’s true. He won’t admit that, though.

“No, I’ve just been bored lately. Think I might take someone home.”

Niall shrugs and takes Harry’s drink from his hand, “Whatever, Harry.” He takes a sip so long that Harry thinks he may not get it back, “Just be careful.”

“Of what?”

“Rapists, murderers, I don’t know. Whatever parents warn their kids about.” He hands Harry his beer back, and it feels lighter than it had before, “I think I might head out, though. Gettin’ tired.”

Harry cocks his head, but he doesn’t want to argue. “Already?”

Niall nods and shoots him a lazy grin, his eyes and cheeks lax. He looks drunk, but one beer could never get Niall tipsy. He must’ve had something to drink earlier, then. “See you tomorrow, mate.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.” Harry waves him off with a smile and hopes he can stumble his way back to Conover alone.

“You know if he’s single?” The girl across from him asks, and Harry had almost forgotten she was there.

“Yeah, I think so. Fairly certain.”

She smiles, and it’s small but genuine. She seems sweet, and she and Niall had clearly hit it off judging by their body language when he’d walked in. Harry could find that in here if he wanted to- someone attractive that he shares chemistry with; someone willing to come home with him.

He takes another look at her, though, and beautiful as she may be, she’s no Louis Tomlinson. And if the sweet girl that can make Niall laugh pales in comparison to Louis, no one else in the room is worth looking at. He decides to give her Niall’s number and a hug goodbye before heading out, head pounding after one beer.

-

When he gets home later that night, he heads straight to his dorm. It feels like it’s been months since he’s had a good night’s sleep, and that’s going to take a toll on his health and beauty at some point. He can’t risk that.

But when he tries to place his key in the lock, it doesn’t push in. At first he assumes he’s holding the key the wrong way, but it won’t go in no matter what way he turns it. He pushes as hard as he can to try and force it in, but he’s applying so much pressure that he’s worried the knob off might break, so he stops.

He squats down to get a better look at the keyhole, and sure enough, there’s clear gel seeping out of the sides. Harry’s keen to think someone filled it with super glue. He wants to be mad, but he doesn’t know where to start.

He decides to head to Niall’s room. He’ll call someone about it in the morning, but the night is starting to catch up to him and he needs a place to sleep.

The door peels open when Harry knocks, Niall’s eyes peering over the side.

“Hello?” He doesn’t look tired, which is weird since Harry was sure he must’ve headed to bed after leaving the party.

“Hey, Ni, can I spend the night?”

Niall cocks his head, “Why?”

“Someone put glue in my keyhole.”

“Is that a euphemism?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Can I or not?”

“Yeah, of course. But you’re setting up your own bed.”

Harry sighs, but he’s relieved that he won’t be sleeping near Niall when he starts to kick in his sleep.

“What’s this about glue, then?”

“Oh,” Harry starts, unfolding the sheets that don’t look like they’ve been washed since he last used them, “Someone put glue in my dorm’s lock? Like, so I can’t put the key in?” He pulls a pillow from Niall’s bed and drops it into place on the floor. “How odd is that.”

“Yeah,” His voice sounds weird, and Harry takes a second to be suspicious. Niall’s been acting weird all day. “Real odd.”

Harry hums in response and starts to take his place on the floor. He feels disgusting, like he’s coated in something from his night out. He ignores it because one night out shouldn’t affect him like this, even if all he’d been able to think about was how much he wanted to spend a night in with Louis.

It’s unhealthy how much he loves watching Louis do mundane tasks. It’s unhealthy how much he’d love to sit in an empty room and lie on the ground with Louis’ head on his chest.

He files that thought away for later and lets the uneven floorboards bring him to a steady sleep.

-

Harry walks out of Niall’s the next morning to see Louis leaning against the wall, head tilted back with a man unscrewing their doorknob.

“Morning, Lou.”

Louis groans and pulls his jumper up to hide his eyes. Harry scoffs and takes a seat beside him. He can feel the vibrations of the man’s power drill through the wall.

“Long night?”

“Yeah, spent it with a friend.”

Harry wants to ask who the friend was, but he knows it’d hurt. He elects instead to tangle his legs with Louis’ and lean his head on his shoulder.

“Did you end up going home with someone?”

“What?”

Louis looks over at him, and his eyes are piercing like they always are when he hasn’t quite woken up, “After you left Johnny’s party, did you take someone home?”

“Oh,” Harry’s doesn’t know how Louis knows about any of that, but he tries not to over think it. “No, I didn’t. Wouldn’t have been able to, anyway.”

“Yeah, really,” Louis laughs, “You know who did it?”

Harry thinks that Niall might’ve had something to do it, and he plans to talk to him about it later. But for now, Louis looks warm and comfortable in his blue jumper, so Harry shrugs, “No idea.”

Harry still hasn’t combed his hair or brushed his teeth, and he knows he needs a shower, but Louis is in a worse condition so it doesn’t matter.

“Why not, though?”

“Why not what?”

“Why didn’t you go home with someone?”

It’s way too early to be talking this much, but Harry isn’t going to leave Louis without a response.

“No one stood out.”

Louis scoffs, “Really? _No_ one?”

Harry shrugs, “Maybe I’m too critical- need to lower my standards.”

“I think about that sometimes, too,” Louis says, leaning over to put his head on Harry’s, “Can’t decide if I want a one off or a relationship, you know? Totally different things to consider.”

Harry thinks back to the boy he’d seen with Louis a few days ago, and knowing Louis was having it off at all was bad enough, let alone if Louis thought the boy was _relationship material_. He wouldn’t survive watching Louis fall in love with someone else. He simply would not. He’d have to move rooms, universities, maybe even countries, just to escape how it’d make him feel.

“I might be looking for one, too.” He already knows what he’s looking for, but he doesn’t mention that. He closes his eyes and leans in closer to Louis’ neck.

Louis laughs, “Harry Styles? In a committed, loving relationship? No way.”

Harry shoves him to the side, forcing him to spring into action so he doesn’t topple the handyman, “I’m the only one of us mature enough for a relationship.”

“No, you might want it, but there’s no way you’re _ready_ for it.”

“Why not?”

“You’re too innocent- whoever you end up with is going to run you out of house and home.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “And you aren’t doing that already?”

“You _offer_ to pay, that’s different.”

It is. Harry offers to pay because he knows Louis doesn’t have the money, not with his mum providing for six other kids. Louis has too much pride to take the money Harry’s always willing to give him, but he’ll let Harry pay for a meal every now and then.

“Besides, we don’t have a joint account. Can’t really take you for all your worth, just yet.” Louis adds.

“We already live together. It’s probably about time.”

Louis nods and smiles, his eyes shut tight.

The handyman finishes the door and hangs their new keys on the knob, leaving without a word. Harry’s the first to stand and check the lock. It works better than their old one ever did, and once they’re inside he flops on his bed belly up.

Louis follows and takes a seat at his desk, feet resting on the table with his textbook in his lap. Neither of them speak, an understood silence hanging in the room. He leaves Louis to study and wonders if taking a nap at noon will fuck with his sleeping schedule. Thinks it’s a bit weird that he’s tired half an hour after waking up.

-

Harry’s never been fond of his medieval history class, and it’s worse when he knows it’s impeding on his sleep schedule (or, rather, his plan to sleep through an entire Tuesday).

He lets out a sigh and leans forward to rest his forehead on the table.

He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there for, feeling his own warm breaths bounce off of the wood and back onto his skin, before someone claps a hand on the back of his shoulder. It’s enough to make him jump.

“Hey, Harry.”

Harry smiles, “Hey, Zayn.”

Zayn takes the seat next to Harry and frowns when his chair squeaks beneath him, “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Tired.” Harry hopes Zayn doesn’t mention that it’s nearly seven at night.

Zayn lets out a dry laugh as he filters through his bag, “Me, too, god. I’ve been caught up in an art project I’ve started- you’ll have to come over once I’m finished. I’m proud of this one.”

“When’ll you be done?”

“Probably, uh,” He takes a moment to think, as if it’s an issue. Harry doesn’t care if it’s finished or not when he sees it- he enjoys watching Zayn get excited, so he’ll come over to his house either way. “Sometime next week, I think.”

“Could I come over next Friday? I was going to go out with Niall, but I guess I don’t have to.”

“You can if you want. Niall invited me out, too, but I said no.” That doesn’t surprise Harry- getting Zayn to go somewhere social is a feat in of itself. “What’s up with that, anyway? How can he always have a campus party to go to?”

“Yeah, that’s sort of his thing,” Harry says.

“I never even _see_ him at the ones I bother to go to, though.”

Harry nods, “Yeah, not really his thing. He loves drinking, so he goes to some, but he has just as much fun hanging out with me and Louis.”

Niall has a bad habit of being fun to be around, and he loves being social, so when he’s been invited somewhere he makes it his job to invite every person he knows. Harry figured it out about a week into their friendship and stopped saying yes to all of his invitations.

“Oh yeah, I remember Louis. Saw him at Sam’s party last week. He seems fun- I’d like to meet him some time.”

Harry should give him a vague ‘of course we’ll meet up’ and move on, but he already knows that isn’t what’s going to happen.

“What was he doing there?"

Zayn shrugs and flips open his notebook, “I don’t know, it was sort of weird. Louis was drinking a lot and talking to my friend Liam. He seemed really passionate about something, but I didn’t ask what it was. Felt like he’d have talked me out of the room.”

Harry ignores Liam’s name and smiles down at his lap, “Yeah, that sounds like Louis.”

“Seems like a good kid.”

God, he has no idea.

Harry doesn’t know what to add besides his usual soliloquies, so he mentions the art exhibit they’ll be holding next week. It’ll be made up of contemporary pieces, which aren’t Harry’s favorites, but Zayn brightens at the mention. His hands don’t start flailing and his voice doesn’t get squeaky and loud like Louis’ does, but he’s getting worked up nonetheless.

“Hey,” Zayn says, eventually falling out of their discussion on the Roger Hiorns pieces that’ll be featured. “Do you want to go to dinner later? My friend works at Daly's and I still haven’t gone to see him.”

Harry makes a point not to mention how tired he is because that isn’t fair to Zayn. It isn’t often that Zayn’s willing to make the plans, and he wants this friendship to last. It took him so long to get Zayn out his shell that he doesn’t want him to dive back in because he thinks Harry isn’t interested.

“Yeah, sure. Right after class?”

Zayn smiles and opens his notebook when Dr. Mulder walks in, “Yeah, it isn’t far.”

The class is slow, and Harry almost wants to cancel dinner but he doesn’t. Zayn is so excited to go out and Harry can’t take that from him.

They leave class together, Zayn composed and calm and Harry tired and eccentric. Everyone’s a work in progress.

Their walk to Daly's is cold and dark, so Zayn seems to blend right in. Once they reach Daly's, Harry walks up right to the register to swipe his key card, confident it’ll pass through because he used to come here all the time, but it doesn’t go through. He’s embarrassed for a second, and it’s made worse by the sigh the man behind the counter lets out.

“Liam, could you come check the computer? This kid’s card won’t go through.” The word kid burns.

“Yeah, sure- oh, hey Zayn!” His voice is kind and deep, and Harry recognizes it from the night he’d interrupted Louis. This boy has kissed Louis’ neck. He’s felt him all over.

“Hey, Liam,” Zayn says, and he sounds affectionate. Harry gets cross at the thought that this boy has friends as nice as Zayn. This boy gets to kiss boys as nice as Louis. And it couldn’t have been a trivial one night stand, Harry now realizes, since Zayn said he’d seen Louis and Liam talking at a party a few _weeks_ ago.

He prides himself on not making a scene at this realization, but he knows that isn’t a high standard to meet.

He hands Liam the card, but he doesn’t make eye contact when he says thank you.

He walks through the buffet and back to his seat while Zayn stays to chat with Liam. He sits alone for a longer than he’d like to, but he doesn’t think much of it until there’s a familiar hand on his shoulder.

“Fancy seeing you here,” He hears from behind him. Louis’ voice is enough to put a smile on his face so wide that it hurts.

“Hey, Lou,” His voice drops a little deeper, and he speaks a little slower, the way he always does when he’s talking to Louis, “Why’re you here?”

“Just grabbing a bite to eat before heading out. You?”

Harry knows that isn’t true. He knows Louis is here to see Liam. Or, at the very least, he’s eating here _because_ of Liam.

“Having dinner with Zayn,” He answers, pointing at Zayn as he walks up with his plate filled.

“Oh,” Louis says, his hand gripping Harry’s shoulder a little tighter. He pauses, and Harry feels like he’s meant to speak, but he has nothing to add. “Well, I’ve got to head off, alright?” Louis says as he turns away, “See you at home?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Louis is gone before Zayn takes his seat.

-

Harry walks home alone after dinner, and the silence in the air feels pregnant. He reaches Conover with little trouble and turns into his wing fully intent on heading straight to bed.

That is, of course, until he notices the sock hanging on the knob of his dorm room.

He walks straight into Niall’s room without knocking since it’s already cracked. He doesn’t get up in the middle of the night for his damn toothbrush, but he also has a terrible night’s sleep. He thinks the two must be connected.

-

He wakes up feeling sluggish and slow, his muscles tense. He almost goes back to bed because he can’t find the energy to sit up, but then he remembers why isn’t in his own room and he’s off the floor in an instant. He makes a beeline for his dorm, leaving his sheets on the ground. He’ll apologize to Niall later.

He turns the lock, and then the knob, and finally peeks in with bated breath, praying he doesn’t find more than one person on the other side.

It doesn’t look like there’s anyone in the room, but it isn’t long before Harry hears a distinctive, “Hazza? That you?”

Harry smiles and walks in to lie on his bed, “Yeah, it is.”

“Alright, I’ll be out in a second.”

Harry hears a hiss coming from the bathroom, so he assumes Louis’ shaving. He’s proven right when Louis comes out with a smooth face and Harry wants to kiss his fresh skin. He feels silly for having to hold himself back.

Louis’ also wearing nothing but a pair of joggers, and Harry tries not to stare at his small nipples or the hair of his happy trail. He focuses on a loose thread hanging from his shirt, instead.

“Hey,” Louis says. His hands are rubbing at his cheeks, soothing them.

“Hey, come here.” Harry reaches his hands out to pull Louis down, holding him against his chest. Louis wiggles, likes he’s trying to get away, but Harry wraps his arms around his waist to keep him still. Louis relents with a sigh.

“How’re you?” Louis whispers. Harry isn’t sure why, seeing as they’re the only two in the room, but he doesn’t question it. He wants to take his shirt off to feel Louis’ bare skin against his own, but he thinks he might drown in his own sexual frustration if he tries.

“I’m good,” He kisses the side of Louis’ head to see Louis smile. “And you?”

Louis leans in closer and buries his head in Harry’s neck. Harry wonders if he can feel his pulse racing. “Good, too. Oh, I forgot to ask- how was your date?”

Harry tilts his head at that, “What?”

“You and Zayn? Dinner yesterday?” Louis leans away, but Harry keeps his grip on Louis’ waist firm, “Ring a bell?”

Oh.

Harry’s immediate reaction is to tell him that he’d misunderstood- that wasn’t a date at all. Harry won’t be going on any dates until Louis is taken because he has no reason to. Can’t force himself to get over Louis when Louis is still single (and ready to mingle, if the nights Harry’s had to spend at Niall’s are any indication).

But he can’t get himself to do it. He knows why Louis is shirtless, and he knows that his dating life doesn’t affect Louis if Louis isn’t interested in him.

So, instead of the truth, Harry answers him with a simple, “It was nice.”

“That’s good,” Louis says, smiling, but it seems constrained. Harry could be imagining that, of course.

He’s always been optimistic to a fault.

-

When Harry reaches Zayn’s dorm, it’s with the full intention of asking how his pieces are coming along, but his brain to mouth translations have been off for the past few weeks.

What comes out instead is, “Do you think Liam and Louis are dating?”

Zayn’s eyes go wide, and it’s sort of rarity to see Zayn caught off guard so Harry revels in it for a moment.

“Liam?”

Harry nods and waits with anticipation. He’s not subtle in the way he stares at Zayn’s lips, watching for a response.

“Answer my question.”

“I- I don’t know. I’d hope not.”

Harry agrees, but he doesn’t know why Zayn would be invested in the relationship, so he has to ask. “Why would you care?”

“I’ve sort of been trying to ask Liam out for months. I just got close enough that I thought we were getting somewhere.”

Harry takes a moment to pity Zayn’s heart. He knows how it feels.

But Zayn hadn’t given him an answer, and he does need one.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“I don’t fucking know, Harry. Liam and I are just friends.” There’s a bite to Zayn’s voice that Harry tries to ignore.

“They slept together, you know,” Harry adds. He isn’t being helpful in terms of Zayn’s wellbeing, but it’s nice to know someone else might know how crushed he was by that same situation.

“I’ve got to sit down,” Zayn says, opening the door a little farther to let Harry in. He takes a seat on his own bed, but he doesn’t speak.

“I really hope they aren’t dating either, Zayn.”

Zayn sighs and nods, but it isn’t committal. Harry doesn’t deal well with that- he needs someone to lean on. He needs someone to get through this with him.

And that’s why he decides to pull out a plan he’s been toying with for weeks. He can’t think of a better situation for it to work.

“What if- what if we try to make them jealous?”

Zayn looks at him with amusement, “That’s cute, Harry.”

“No, I’m not joking. Like, you’ve been friends with Liam for a while, right?”

Zayn nods.

“And he only thinks of you as a friend, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So maybe Liam and Louis just don’t think of us as boyfriend material, you know? Maybe they just see us platonically.”

“Okay,” Zayn starts, voice even and steady, “I’ve got you so far.”

“And so what if- and I’m just throwing ideas out here- what if we do something to make them remember we’re available, too.”

“How so?” The look on Zayn’s face encourages Harry to keep going.

“Like, maybe they catch us in a compromising position. Or, like, out on a date. Anything to get them thinking.”

Zayn lets out a breath but doesn’t reply. Harry gives him a chance to think it over.

“I don’t know, Harry. Seems like it could backfire.”

“Not like we’re getting anywhere now.”

Zayn shrugs and turns to look at a painting up on the wall. It’s a dark blue piece with a strip of red down the middle- meaningless to Harry, but substantial to Zayn.

“What do you think, then?” Harry asks when Zayn’s been given enough time to think.

Zayn speaks slowly when he responds, “I just- I’m not sure I want to get in the middle of that, man.”

“Middle of what?”

“You and Louis. As much as I like Liam, I’m not sure I want to mess with that.”

Well, _someone_ has got to mess with it because Harry can’t seem to get the ball rolling on his on.

“I just- I’ve tried being obvious about how I feel, and it hasn’t worked. I can’t deal with the thought that he’s happy with someone else, as terrible as that sounds.”

Zayn gives him a weighty look, but Harry doesn’t speak. He leaves Zayn to decipher whatever’s in that head of his.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Zayn says, like the answer should be simple. It’s a loaded, hypocritical question, and Harry rolls his eyes as soon as he’s done saying it.

“Why haven’t you done the same for Liam?” It comes out sharp, but Harry doesn’t consider apologizing.

Zayn sighs and stares down at his black jeans. Harry knows he’s going to excuse himself for a smoke break soon.

“I don’t think anyone on campus would be dumb enough to do this, Harry. Who knows what Louis’ll do when he thinks someone’s taking your attention away from him.” Zayn looks him over for a second, “Like, I’m not even friends with him, but I’ve heard how he gets. I don’t know if I want to mess with that."

“Please, Zayn.”

Zayn takes a moment to watch Harry with a look in his eyes that Harry’s never seen before. It’s quiet in the room- so quiet that Harry can hear his heart beating in his ears.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” Zayn decides, “But only because you’ve got me all bummed about Liam.”

His reasoning is sad, but Harry thinks this’ll work out well in the end.

At the very least, it’s the only chance he’s got.

-

Harry knows right around when Louis will be back from his Tech Theatre class, and he pauses for a moment to ask himself if this is a good plan. Ask himself if he wants to go through with this.

Part of him knows that he’s being selfish and knows that Louis is allowed to date whoever he wants.

But the other part of him, the part that burns the brightest when he sees Louis with someone else, doesn’t care.

He just wants to feel even on this vague and confusing playing field.

“Alright, so I’ll lie here,” Harry says, lying down on his own bed. He glances at the clock and sees that it’s almost 7:10, so Louis should be walking in at any second. “And you, like-”

Zayn starts to get up on the bed and props himself up on his elbows so he’s hanging over Harry. It’s a bit weird, being this close, but it doesn’t feel sexual. Their eye contact makes the air tense, but that’s alright. Louis’ll be here soon.

“You gonna get offended if I don’t get a boner?”

Harry laughs, loud and confident, both because Zayn is genuinely funny and because he wants to fill in the silence.

When he hears the door open, he laughs louder.

“Harry, is that- oh.”

Harry can’t quite decipher the ‘oh’, so he sits up once Zayn rolls off of him.

“Hey, Lou.” He tries to keep a smile on his face, and he finds it isn’t hard. He doesn’t like lying because he isn’t good at maintaining a blank face, but if smiling _helps_ the lie, then all the more reason to.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea-” Louis starts, but he makes no move to leave.

Zayn shakes his head, and Harry hopes he plays his part well, “I, uh- I should probably get going.”

He does sound convincing- he sounds like he’s been caught doing something shameful. It isn’t far from the truth.

Harry watches Louis closely, trying to get a read on his reaction. He wonders if he can see through them- he is a theatre major, after all. Spotting bad actors is his forte.

Louis’ face is blank when he speaks, “I should probably head out, then.”

Again, no one moves.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll go.” Zayn says. It does wonders for filling in the tense silence, “We’ll talk later, right Harry?”

Harry takes a second to jump into action, “Uh- yeah. Of course.”

It isn’t a lie. They do need to talk, and although Harry isn’t looking forward to it, he knows he owes him that much. He’s lucky Zayn agreed to do this for him at all. He can give him a simple discussion.

Zayn shuts the door when he leaves, and Louis smiles as soon as it clicks, like he’s been shaken out of his thoughts.

“Sorry about interrupting you.”

Harry shrugs, “It’s alright.”

They’re quiet for a long second, eye contact intense but terse, before Louis opens his mouth again.

“I’m going to head to Niall’s- I’ve got to get ready for a date tonight.”

Harry’s lungs fall to the ground, but he isn’t sure what he’d expected. Some part of him knew Louis and Liam were getting serious.

“Okay- tell me how it goes.”

Louis’ quiet, his eyes trained on Harry’s. Harry shifts uncomfortably.

“I will,” Louis says. He has on a smile so wide Harry’s heart jumps in his chest, which is odd seeing as the news of Louis preparing for a date should’ve stamped the life out of it.

He walks out quickly, and the second the door is pulled closed Harry calls Zayn.

It takes a few rings, so Harry knows Zayn is ignoring him. He doesn’t blame him- they haven’t been apart long, and Zayn’s not one for constant interaction.

Harry will keep calling him until he picks up, though, so it isn’t an issue if he chooses to ignore him this time around.

“Hello?” Zayn says when he answers, and he sounds annoyed, but Harry moves past it.

“He’s going on a date later.”

Zayn sighs and Harry can almost hear his eye roll, “Listen, Harry, this really isn’t my problem.”

“Please, Zayn. It’s with Liam. Does he have a favorite place to eat? Do you know where he might be?”

Zayn pauses. It’s so quiet that Harry can hear the voices around him. He must be out on the quad, then.

“He’s got a date with _Liam_? I didn’t- I didn’t think they were so serious.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Zayn talks right over Harry, “They’re probably at Daly’s. I can drive you there.”

“Yeah, this is all I need. You’ve been so much help.”

“I’m rooting for you two, alright? If Louis’ going to end up with anyone, it should be you.”

“Thanks, Zayn,” Harry says as he pulls his shoes out from under his bed. He knows Zayn’s just saying that because it would mean Liam would be single, but he also likes to believe that he and Louis are meant to be. What with fate and all that bullshit. “I’m rooting for us, too.”

-

The car ride to Daly’s is quiet, but it isn’t as uncomfortable as Harry thought it’d be. He knows they both have the same amount in invested in this, and they’re both terrible people for going to watch a date they have no business being involved in, but that’s life.

“We aren’t going to, like, sabotage this date, though, right?” Zayn says, his voice soft but steady, “We’re just- checking up.”

Zayn has a lot on his shoulders, it seems, and for a moment Harry regrets dragging him along. It comforts Harry to know that Louis isn’t pure himself, and every time Harry wants to ask Zayn to turn the car around he reminds himself that Louis has never let him go home with someone he’s met at a party. Not once. He’ll always throw himself over Harry because he’s too drunk to stand on his own, or he’ll suddenly feel ill, and Harry used to believe that he was being serious. He’s less keen to that idea now.

Zayn doesn’t have that to lean back on- Liam’s probably a wonderful soul, and that’s leaving Zayn to feel like shit.

Everything about Louis is a blessing in disguise.

“If this is something you’re going to regret, we can turn back, you know. I’ll be alright.”

Zayn sighs and turns the corner into the car-park, “No, I’m just thinking aloud.”

Harry nods and doesn’t speak out of fear of shaking Zayn a bit too far. Zayn has a calculated personality, but underneath it he’s delicate in a way Harry’s never seen. If Harry crossed an unknown boundary, Zayn would recede so far into his shell that he’d never come back out.

They walk through the front doors without another word, and Harry’s eyes fall right to the back of Louis’ head. He has on an oversized jumper that Harry’s certain is his, and it’s satisfying to know Louis has a piece of him on when he’s seated so close to Liam.

“Let’s get in line- it’ll seem weird if we walk straight up to them.”

They both slide their cards one after the other and Zayn hands him his tray. Harry puts every third dish from the buffet on his plate since he doesn’t have the energy to figure out what he’d like to eat.

Once they’re done, he lets Zayn pick where they sit. He’s already forced Zayn to do so much for him, and if he were to pick a seat he’d pick one far too close to Louis and Liam anyway.

Zayn settles them against the wall, and Harry ends up facing away from Louis’ table. That’s for the best.

“What’re they doing?”

Zayn squints his eyes and takes a bite from the veggie burger he’d picked up, “Uh- studying, I think? Liam’s highlighting something and now he’s handing it back to Louis.”

That calms Harry’s shallow breathing, “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Yeah,” Zayn replies, his voice heavy, “But they’re sitting awfully close. Louis keeps touching Liam’s hand.” His voice is still quiet, but it has an edge. It’s biting.

“Louis’ a tactile person, maybe that’s just- it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Zayn nods, but he isn’t paying any attention to what Harry has to say, “Liam’s laughing now. They look like they’re having a good time.”

Harry sighs and pushes his mashed potatoes around a bit, “I’m sure they are.”

“Wait, Louis’ looking. Laugh like I said something funny.”

Harry looks up and Zayn has a huge fake grin plastered across his face. That, paired with the stiff tension in the air, is enough to have Harry laughing aloud, deep and genuine. Zayn’s strained smile melds into a real one, and Harry thinks they’re going to be alright if they can survive this date-stakeout together.

“What’s he doing now,” Harry says, mirth in his tone. This could be fun if they’d let it be.

“He looks confused, but he’s just gone back to the papers on the table. Do- do something that’ll get Liam looking, too.”

Harry can’t think of a good plan, so he knocks the ketchup bottle off of the table on reflex. It pops open when it hits the ground and splatters, and that has both Zayn and Harry smiling like knobs. Harry gets down to pick up the bottle while Zayn grabs the napkins and they end up on their knees, cleaning the starchy mess.

While they’re standing back up, Zayn leans forward to give Harry a kiss on the cheek.

“Liam’s looking,” He whispers in Harry’s ear.

Harry smiles and talks through his teeth, “And Louis?”

They take their seats, and though Zayn doesn’t look over at the table, he nods.

“Definitely.”

Harry wants to give him a high five, but he refrains for appearances sake. They sit for a bit, Harry trying to catch tater tots in his mouth when Zayn throws them his way, before getting back to business.

Zayn leans forward on his arms, and it makes Harry feel like they’re trading classified information, “I think maybe you should go to the bathroom. Louis might follow.”

Harry does think it’s weird that neither Louis nor Liam have approached them yet, “Yeah, alright. Don’t drop anything- I saw the look the cash worker gave us earlier.”

Zayn shoots him an honest smile before Harry makes a move to stand. He makes a conscious decision not to look at Louis’ table on his walk to the bathroom.

He ends up standing in front of the mirror actually worried about his hair because when he walks back out, Louis is going to see him. His part won’t seem to hold, so he redraws it with his finger and tries to comb through some of the locks underneath. It’s getting long, and though his mum says she might cut it herself, he quite likes it. He hopes Louis likes it, too, but he’s too nervous about receiving an honest answer to ask.

He’s just about finished fussing over his hair when Louis walks in.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry says, and he prays his voice sounds confident, not rehearsed like it is.

Louis looks at him with kind eyes and walks up to the sink to wash his hands. Harry wonders if he’s here just to talk to him. His gut twists at the thought.

“Hey, Harry. How’ve you been?”

“Good, I’ve been good. Thinking of heading back home after this.”

Louis gives him a look, but it’s unreadable, “Yeah, me too.”

There’s a moment where the tap Louis is using takes over the room.

“Why’re you here?” Harry asks, because it was going to come out at some point, anyway.

Louis reaches over for the soap, his eyes trained on the dispenser, “Out with Liam.”

“On a study date?”

Louis nods, but doesn’t speak. He starts to wash his hands, and he sits under the water so long that they’re going to be chapped later. He never puts on moisturizer, no matter how often Harry tells him he needs to. Especially with winter right around the corner.

“And you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Harry says, “I’m out with Zayn, too.” He can’t say it’s a date because he’s sure his voice will give it away.

“That’s nice. You and Zayn been getting close lately?”

Harry nods, and he realizes doesn’t have a reason to be in here anymore. He doesn’t make any move to leave, though.

“That’s nice,” Louis says, pulling paper towels out of the dispenser, “Liam says he’s nice.”

“He really is. Might even-” Harry pauses, and he wants to bite his tongue, but decides against it. “Might even take him home later.”

Louis looks up with a smile, but that’s not what Harry wanted at all. He wanted a look of jealousy or anger, nothing positive.

“I’ll know what to do,” Louis says with a laugh, drying his hands off and dropping the paper towels in the bin.

Harry holds the door for Louis as they leave. The remains of their conversation leave him feeling strained and rigid.

He’s relieved when Zayn doesn’t ask how it was.

“Liam came over to talk to me,” Zayn says instead.

“What’d he say?”

“Just asked how I was. Asked why I was here.”

“And you said?”

“Said we were just hanging out.” Harry’s sort of glad he didn’t say they were on a date, either. Putting a word on it makes it feel like a more deliberate lie. “He didn’t even seem upset, and I think maybe that was worse.”

Harry shrugs, “Same thing happened to me. But I, uh. I told Louis you were maybe coming home with me.”

Zayn scoffs, “Couldn’t hold your tongue?”

Harry feels like he should explain himself. “This isn’t normal, I never- I never lie. I’m not good at it, and I’ve always just told the truth out of principle, but Louis. He does things to me.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“I feel like I’ve got to follow through.”

“Did he seem-” Now Zayn’s the one that’s hesitant, “Did Louis seem like he felt anything?”

Harry sighs because he knows the truth, and it isn’t a good one. “Not at all. Seemed happy, even.”

“Sorry, mate,” Zayn says, reaching over to rub Harry’s bicep. The contact does help a bit- it keeps him grounded.

“No, it isn’t a big deal,” Harry stirs his drink while he speaks, watching the ice inside move around his straw, “I’m not here to win Louis over if Louis doesn’t want that to happen. I’m here because I’m childish and can’t let the boy I like go on a date alone.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“To being childish,” He says, holding up his drink.

“To being childish.”

Their drinks spill onto the table, and though they’re picking up their messes, Harry still feels guilty about being an awful customer.

-

They stop in the quad on the way home to take their minds off of Liam and Louis and everything else that Harry doesn’t have the energy to analyze. Zayn’s been so great with this- he always knows what questions to ask and when to ask them. He doesn’t talk unless he has to, and though Harry could do without the smoking, Zayn’s unapologetic in who he is. It’s admirable.

By the time they reach Conover the sun has already set, and they’ve wasted all their time since lunch people watching. That doesn’t mean Harry’s forgotten why he has Zayn with him, though. Looking at the doors to his hall is enough to get his heart pumping and his stomach twisting.

He wonders if Louis will be in their room and Harry’ll have to kick him out. Wonders if Louis will be asleep and he’ll have to wake him up.

If anything, though, Louis set out a box condoms, a bottle of lube, and a good luck note. That’s much more his style.

“Harry? You’ve gone pale.”

“I don’t know, I just- I feel a bit ill. I don’t like any of this.”

Zayn gives him a sympathetic look and rubs his hand up Harry’s back. It relieves the tension there by a fraction, but Harry still feels on edge.

When they reach Harry’s dorm, Zayn asks for the keys because they both know Harry wouldn’t be able to line it up with the lock.

Zayn reaches for the light switch after he’s opened the door, but his hand freezes in midair. Harry’s confused for a second, but when he pushes the door a bit farther so he can peek in, he sees why.

“Lou?”

Louis looks up from his game controller and his smile drops, “Oh, Harry, I completely forgot. It’s been hours.”

He looks distressed, and Harry’s immediate reaction is to soothe him, “No, it’s fine, Lou. Really, it is.”

“No, it isn’t. This is so rude of me- I’ll get them out.” Louis turns to the other boys in the room, and there’s so many that Harry has to take a headcount.

Twelve. There're twelve boys in a room made for two.

“Guys, come on, we’ve got to go.”

One of the boys scoffs and take another handful of Doritos. He slams it right into his mouth. It’s barbaric. “I’m not leaving.”

“Yeah, Lou, I’m so close. It’s the final match.” They’re playing Fifa, then.

“Guys, come on, my roommate needs the room.”

“Your roommate can have it off somewhere else.”

“I’m right here,” Harry interjects, trying to soften the sharp edge to his voice. Who are these boys, anyway? Harry wasn’t aware that Louis was friends with such twats.

“No, it’s fine. Harry and I can meet up some other time.” Zayn says, leaning over to kiss Harry on the cheek. Harry doesn’t miss the way Louis’ gaze follows it.

“That’d be great,” Harry replies, trying to keep his eyes trained on Zayn and not on how cute Louis looks with his t-shirt a few sizes too large.

Zayn smiles at him and leaves quickly. Harry sort of wants to follow- he’s afraid to face Louis in a room full of people this judgemental.

“Sorry, Harry.”

“No, Lou, it’s fine.” He wants to add _we haven’t seen each other in a while, anyway. Come sit with me- let’s watch a movie or something_ , but this doesn’t seem like the sort of crowd he could say that in front of.

He lies on his own bed, which was graciously left empty, and pulls out his phone. He fucks around on it for as long as he can, and when he runs out of texts to respond to and games to play, he stares at the lock screen until the strangers decide to leave.

-

The air feels heavy when he wakes up, like he can’t quite cut through it when he moves. He sort of wishes he’d slept through the night- naps leave him feeling like shit.

“You finally up?”

Harry looks over to find Louis staring at his phone, feet dangling off his bed. It reminds Harry of how small he is, and of how easy Louis is to pick up and throw over his shoulder. Louis always takes advantage and makes Harry give him piggyback rides around Conover, but Harry doesn’t mind. If it involves Louis touching him, it’s worth his time.

“Yeah. Feel like shit.” His voice sounds rough when it comes out, so he coughs to clear his throat. It helps to break whatever’s floating in the room, too.

“You were only asleep for like ten minutes.” Louis stands up to stretch, pulling his left arm across his body.

“When did those boys leave?”

“Just a little while ago,” Louis says, dropping his arm and walking towards Harry. It gets Harry’s heart beating for no reason whatsoever. Louis extends his hand, and Harry stares at it because he’s still too groggy to follow what’s happening. “Come on, then. Niall invited us out, and I think we should go.”

Harry takes his hand, but he’s still lost, “Why? It’s so late.”

Once he’s out of bed he drops Louis’ hand like it’s burnt him.

“We should just get out- feel like we haven’t in a while.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go.” Harry’s voice is abrasive in a way he can’t be bothered to control.

“Then don’t come.”

There’s a level of expectancy there that Harry doesn’t feel like fighting.

“No, I’m coming. Just wait for me.”

Louis smiles and takes a seat next to Harry on the bed while Harry fumbles to pull his boots on. It’s hard to concentrate when all he can think about is where their thighs are touching.

“We done? Been waiting forever.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now, “Alright, come on. But grab a jacket- you always get cold.”

“Don’t need you to baby me.”

“Just don’t want to hear you complaining later.”

Louis colors at that, which strikes Harry as odd, but it’s gone before he can comment on it.

“I’ll bring one, but I’m not going to wear it.”

Harry laughs, and it fills the emptiness that had been in the room. It’s nice in a way things haven’t been for weeks.

Louis guides them the entire way there, criticizing the directions Niall had given him for being too vague. He doesn’t sound like he does when he joking, though, so Harry puts his arm around his shoulders and squeezes.

“You alright?”

Louis looks up at him and softens, which does absurd things to Harry’s heart, “Yeah, it’s just been a long few weeks.”

Harry gives him a gentle smile because he knows how that feels, and Louis’ the last person on the planet who deserves to feel like shit.

“Use tonight to get your mind off of that, alright?”

“Yeah, that’s why I wanted to come out,” Louis says, his eyes trained on the pavement. “Also why I wanted you with me.”

Harry’s insides color, and he can’t fight off the proud smile that takes over his features, “Good.” He kisses Louis’ temple, and Louis bats him away as soon as he realizes what’s happening.

“Don’t want germs, keep away from me.”

Harry grins and follows Louis into the grass, away from the pavement. It’s squishy beneath his boots, so the sprinklers must’ve been on earlier. Not that it matters when Louis’ eyes have crinkles at the edges from how happy he is.

“Don’t want me to kiss you? Don’t want me touching you?”

Louis laughs, and it floods the area around them, “Never, Hazza. I’ll have to shower for weeks.”

“You probably need to, though. Uni boys never shower enough.”

God, the smile on Louis’ face makes Harry want to pounce. He wants to kiss him while they lie on the cold, damp grass.

Louis’ stopped walking, so he’s sinking into the ground. “You calling me normal? Of all people, Harry.”

“Not normal,” Harry says. He and Louis are toe-to-toe now. He can feel every breath Louis lets out, shaky and slow. “Not normal at all.”

“Sounds like an insult,” Louis replies, looking up at him through his eyelashes. Harry can’t breathe even though the night air is clear.

“Not an insult. Not at all.” Harry leans in a little closer so their foreheads are touching, too. His heart is beating so fast it might pop right out of his chest, but he tries to ignore it so he can take in the way Louis’ eyes look when he’s this close.

“Feels like we haven’t talked in a while,” Louis says. He puts his hands on Harry’s bicep and squeezes; the skin beneath his touch feels like it’s on fire.

“I know. I miss you.” He feels vulnerable when he says it, like he’s put too much on the line. Louis could knock him down at any moment.

“Miss you, too.”

Harry wants to kiss him right there, standing on the side of an empty street with silence surrounding them. It’d be so natural to lean down and press his lips against Louis’, but he isn’t going to. Louis has a life outside of whatever Harry’s feeling for him, and Harry knows that.

If Harry were Liam and he knew someone had tried to kiss Louis, he’d be bitter. He can’t do that to Liam.

“We should get going.” They’re standing so close that Louis can probably feel the words on his skin.

Louis stares at him for a beat longer before shaking his head, like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, “Yeah, Niall’s probably looking for us.”

They walk off, and Harry goes to place his hand on the small of Louis’ back several times out of reflex, but he stops himself each time. Keeps his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket.

They share a silent, heavy walk to the party.

-

Harry’s blood is pumping so fast he can feel it in his ears and he wants to take a seat but he can’t get his legs to move. He takes a sip of his beer in hopes that it’ll cure the restless feeling growing between his bones.

He can’t look up because the lights are nauseating, and he can’t look down because he’s afraid he might hit the floor.

And he can’t look straight ahead because he’d see where Louis has his hands around a stranger’s neck, his hips moving to the shit music they’ve got on blast.

It burns in more ways than one way.

Liam and Louis aren’t serious, then, because Louis would never cheat on someone he cares about. And this stranger is a better placeholder for Louis’ needs than Harry is, which, alright. That’s going to have Harry vomiting if he doesn’t find something else to focus on.

But he can’t, and he already knows he’s going to make a dumb decision tonight. He could blame the alcohol, but he’d be lying. And he’s already done enough of that.

So he leaves the party through the front door, turns so he’s standing in the front garden, and pulls out his phone.

He does feel bad about taking up an emergency line, but they live in a nice area and if they don’t have the time to deal with his petty life issues they’ll tell him.

“911.”

Harry tries to keep his breathing calm even though he’s had a bit to drink, “Hi, I’d like to report a noise complaint.”

They ask him questions that he hopes he answers with an air of certainty. It’s a long phone call, and when it’s over he falls to the ground. His jeans are going to be wet, but that’s alright. All he has to do is wait for the police to show up and Louis won’t sleep with someone new and Harry will have the rest of his life to feel like shit.

When the police arrive, Harry’s still seated right off the side of the driveway with his boots buried in the dirt. His sober self will hate him for it, but for now all he can think about is the grass underneath his jeans.

His arse feel disgusting, the water seeping through his jeans and wrinkling his skin. He focuses on how that feels and not on the guilt settling in when the police start asking questions.

Harry stands up when he notices people leaving the party.

Louis’ eyes look wild when he exits the house, his hair messy and his shirt rumpled. It makes Harry’s insides burn, but he ignores it the best he can. He focuses on the Louis that’s stumbling up to him.

“We weren’t even that loud,” Louis says, his smile wide. Everyone loves a little excitement, and the police always bring a sense of danger.

“I know, it’s wild.” Harry doesn’t want to talk about this for long- he hasn’t even had time to find an alibi. Not to mention that he’s shit-faced and upset. He might admit that he’s the one that called the police just so he doesn’t have to feel it on his shoulders.

“First time for everything I guess.”

Louis reaches down for his wrist and circles around it. The skin of Louis’ fingers might leave a scar if Harry doesn’t pull away.

“How was that guy you were dancing with?”

Louis takes his hand back and Harry’s wrist goes cold.

“Do you really want to know?” His voice sounds dull, and it’s so foreign that Harry almost doesn’t believe it’s Louis talking.

“Yeah, how was it? Besides the policemen, and all.” His destructive tendencies seem to have taken over. He won’t survive a detailed answer if that’s what Louis gives him.

Louis looks him over before speaking, and it gives Harry the shivers.

“It was fine. Would’ve been great.” His voice sounds stiff. “Let’s get out of here before things get weird.”

Harry nods and almost reaches over to lace their fingers, but decides that now isn’t the time. The air is wound too tight for Harry to pretend he’s doing it out of instinct. Louis brings an arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulls him close, keeping his drunk body steady so he doesn’t walk into oncoming traffic.

-

The air between them is tense for days.

They don’t talk much save asking if they can take a shower or to say that they’re heading off to class.

The room is cold to its floorboards, but at least Louis is _here_. Even if Harry can’t hear his voice or his biting remarks, at least he’s here. Being able to see Louis leaves Harry’s world serene.

By day three, though, Harry’s had enough.

“Do you want to go out to lunch?” He feels nervous asking, but he doesn’t think it’s a weird question. It’s almost noon, and they’re friends, and lunch is the most platonic of all meals.

“What?” Louis sounds startled, so Harry must’ve spoken too loudly.

He tries to slow his words down and talk softer because he knows how Louis gets when he’s overwhelmed with his schoolwork. “Do you want to go out to lunch? It’s almost noon.”

Louis shrugs and and keeps his head down, eyes trained on the papers in front of him, “I’ve got a lot of work, Harry.”

“You need a break, then.” It’s true. When Louis needs to get something done, he dives in head first and ignores everything but the issue at hand. He won’t surface for days, and Harry doesn’t knows if he’d ever come up for air if he didn’t have people around to watch him.

“No, I’ve got to work.” He sounds firm, so Harry drops it. They won’t be eating, then.

“Alright, we’ll eat later.”

“Sorry, I’ve been feeling stressed lately. We’ll definitely go later,” Louis says, but there’s nothing apologetic about it. He sounds far away, like he’s thinking about something else. It makes Harry uneasy.

“Are you alright?” He tries to keep his words slow, wants to give Louis time to digest them.

Louis looks over at him for the first time all day, and he looks awful. The bags under his eyes are a dark purple and his lips are pale. His hair hasn’t been brushed and he looks frail, like he might fall out of his chair and not even put out a hand to shield himself.

Harry wants to bundle him up and hold him in his arms. He wants to force Louis to sleep in his arms and see if that’ll drown whatever’s swallowing him whole.

“I’m going to move into Niall’s room.”

“What?”

Louis doesn’t respond, so Harry laughs to cut the silence.

Judging by the weary look Louis shoots him, it wasn’t a good idea.

“I just- my grades have been dropping, Harry. And I’m tired. And I don’t like sleeping here anymore.”

He says it like he’s breaking up with Harry, and that sets something off in Harry’s veins.

“You’re leaving?”

Louis doesn’t get to end a relationship that never even started.

“Yeah, this just isn’t working. I’m not, like, going to stop being your friend. Just- we won’t live together anymore, you know?”

“When are you moving out?”

“Today,” Louis says, and Harry’s breathing is growing heavy, “Niall’s coming to help.”

“Niall’s helping you with this?”

“Yeah. He supports it.”

“He doesn’t think you should stay here?” The words scrape at Harry’s insides. Niall’s been supportive of everything Harry’s ever done, and it feels like he’s been blindsided. Betrayed.

“He doesn’t think it’s healthy.”

“Well _fuck_ healthy, Lou. If you move out, I won’t-”

“I’m just moving out. I think you need to calm down.” The words prick at Harry’s skin.

If Louis moves out, they aren’t going to keep talking. This delicate balance between them has been shaky ever since Louis started dating Liam- Harry doubts they’ll keep talking when they aren’t forced to look one another in the eye.

“Calm down?” Harry tries to project what’s bubbling in his stomach in those two words. “I don’t-” The anger is dying, though, and he isn’t sure how to explain why he’s so upset without saying something he’ll regret. “I don’t want you to move out. I want to talk about this.”

Louis gives him a soft smile and he smiles back on instinct. It’s almost painful how good things could be if he could just hold Louis. Maybe talk some sense into him.

Louis walks up to him slowly, and his face looks so gentle that Harry thinks about surging up to kiss him right there. His hands twitch with want.

Once Louis is right in front of him they’re standing so close that Harry has to look up to maintain eye contact.

Louis brings his hands up to cup the sides of Harry’s face, “My mum can’t afford to send me here if I don’t have the grades to show for it. You know this.”

Harry sighs, “I do.” He doesn’t add anything because there’s no right thing to say.

“Okay,” Louis shakes his head and steps back, “Okay. I think I should go.”

Harry thinks about arguing, he does, but all the energy he’d had before this conversation was lost somewhere in the room. All he wants to do is sleep.

“Alright. Talk to you later, yeah?”

Louis nods, his eyes kind, “Definitely.”

Once Louis’ gone, Harry turns over and falls to sleep without giving himself time to think.

-

Harry sleeps through the entire night. Louis’ half of the room is empty when he wakes up.

It burns somewhere deep, so Harry washes his face and contemplates skipping class altogether.

He can’t do that, though, not when Louis is so stressed about school that he left Harry all alone. He doesn’t have the right to skip class just because he isn’t on a scholarship.

So he leaves for class feeling heavy and bitter and tries not to think about if he’ll forget to go to the rest of his classes without Louis there to wake him up.

He doesn’t even try to convince himself that he doesn’t care because he’s done enough lying for the year.

-

Two days after Louis moved out, Harry sees him in the hall unlocking Niall’s dorm room.

Louis waves and Harry smiles back, but it hurts worse than if they’d pretended they didn’t know each other anymore.

-

He hasn’t seen Louis in a week, and he feels hollow. Feels like he can’t stand up because he’d fall right back down.

He makes a point to ignore all of Niall’s calls and he doesn’t sit next to Zayn during history.

He feels the greatest when he sees Liam because it stings to the core.

-

It’s been a week and a half and it’s all Harry can think about. He’s been considering flying home to see his mum because he needs to be with someone that cares about him. Needs someone to hold him and talk to him and maybe force him to eat and take a shower.

He hasn’t been talking much, which is odd seeing as he’s a sociable person at heart, but he doesn’t have the energy. He’d end up snapping at anyone who used a tone he didn’t like or touched him somewhere he didn’t want.

It’s been a long week and a half.

So when there’s a knock on the door, Harry considers pretending he isn’t home. He keeps quiet, head stuffed in his pillow, eyes clamped shut, hoping they’ll leave without going any further.

“Harry, let me in.”

Harry feels his insides crumbling, but he’s able to stand on his own two feet to answer the door. It’s easier when he knows Louis’ on the other side.

He turns the knobs and gets the urge to run. To push past where Louis will be in the hall and run outside and let the sun kiss his skin. He’s been trapped in this room, only leaving to go to class, and he can’t face Louis when he isn’t sure he’s even alive.

“Harry, come on.” Louis’ voice is soft and delicate and everything Harry’s ever wanted to hear.

He almost forgets that Louis didn’t care about him enough to stick around, but not quite. It’s still a constant ache in his stomach.

He pulls the door open and Louis smiles at him, broad and white and genuine. Harry can’t breathe.

“Can I come in?”

If he thinks Harry’s acting weird, he doesn’t mention it.

“Yeah, of course,” He says. His voice is gruff. Unused.

Louis nods and walks past the doorway, his side brushing Harry’s arm and it sends goosebumps up his skin. It’s overwhelming to feel so much at once.

“How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good,” Harry says. It’s a lie, but he doesn’t care.

“Good. That’s good.”

Louis shows no tension in his voice nor his actions, and Harry wants to be angered by it but it isn’t going to happen. He’s glad Louis’ feeling well.

Louis lies down on what had been his bed and crosses his hands beneath his head, “This bed is lot more comfortable than Niall’s. Did you know he kicks in his sleep?”

Harry does. He knows it well- that’s why he slept on the ground when Louis would use what had been their room to have sex with other people.

He doesn’t answer.

He’s almost angry that Louis looks so comfortable when Harry’s felt like a shell of himself for a week and a half.

How can Louis not be affected by this? Harry had thought they were best friends, but Louis doesn’t seem shaken by their lack of interaction at all.

And that sucks, it really does. Harry has a lot of friends, he has a lot of people who call him their friend, but he only has three that he would say actually care about his wellbeing.

The other two have been over almost everyday to check on him and make sure he’s still breathing. The one he’s in love with didn’t even notice he was gone.

Louis looks over at him, his eyebrows furrowed like he’s confused, and honestly.

Fuck that.

“Lou, I think you should leave.” 

Not think, not should. 

Louis, you _have_ to leave.

That’s was the proper thing to say. That’s what he would’ve said if he didn’t want Louis to stay more than he’s ever wanted anything.

“Excuse me?”

“You need to leave,” He tries his best to sound firm, “You really need to leave.”

Louis sits up on the edge of the bed, far enough up so his feet touch the ground. “You kicking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.” It feels like there’s another person speaking for him, but he doesn’t mind. Who ever they are, they’re doing things he can’t.

“I just wanted to talk. Feel like we haven’t done that in a while.”

Louis sounds sincere, but it must be fake.

If he wanted to talk, he never would’ve stopped.

“We haven’t talked all week. Why now?” He’s so fucking proud of how stable his voice sounds.

If Louis weren’t here he might burst into tears over how many conflicting emotions are scratching against his skull.

“Just missed you.”

“Louis, you can’t fucking _do_ that. You can’t leave whenever you want and expect to be able to come back like nothing happened.”

Louis stands up so he’s taller than Harry since Harry is sitting on his bed, and Harry would be intimidated if he hadn’t been defeated ages ago. There’s no way this can deteriorate.

“Don’t get all emotional on me, Harry. I just moved out. You’re making this into a big deal.”

There’s so much packed into each little sentence that Harry stands up, too. This needs to be a fair battle, and for what Louis has in bite, Harry has in size. Over Louis, at least.

“You’ve ignored me for a week, a now you’re going to act like _I’m_ the prick? I didn’t do a fucking thing and yet you left.” He can feel his blood as it runs through his veins. He wants to destroy something to give this anger a place to go.

“All I did was leave the room, Harry! I didn’t leave _you_.”

“You fucking did! You left me and we haven’t spoken in ages and I’m not getting shit for an explanation.”

They’re probably yelling. Harry can’t tell. All he can hear is his own blood in his ears.

“I gave you an explanation but you just won’t accept it. You’re so fucking needy. I can leave my mate’s room whenever I’d like- we aren’t fucking _married_ and I don’t owe you shit.”

The words are a deep blow to Harry’s fragile resolve. He sits down as soon as Louis’ done spitting them out.

Louis doesn’t owe him shit because Harry’d never meant a thing to him, and Harry knows that now.

He can’t scream back. He can’t even stand up.

The acceptance hurts worse than the anger that has settled into his joints. He aches all over.

“You need to leave, Louis.”

Louis gives him one more look before leaving. Harry can’t even turn his head to watch him go.

-

It’s been a long two weeks.

-

On day fifteen, Zayn comes home with him after history. Harry hadn’t given him permission, and they don’t talk on the walk there, but Zayn doesn’t seem to care.

He unlocks his door and leaves it open for Zayn to follow. He drops himself on his bed and hopes Zayn doesn’t open his mouth. He’s become quite protective of the dead silence of his room.

“Harry, you’ve got to wake up.”

There it is.

“I’m tired, Zayn.” It’s the same excuse he uses every time anyone mentions how odd he’s acting.

Tired.

Hearing the word makes him want to curl up under his blanket and kick Zayn out.

“I don’t care. You’ve got to get up.”

“And do what?” Harry doesn’t move. He doesn’t want Zayn to think he’s taking him seriously because he isn’t- if he wants to lie here for the rest of his life, he will.

“I think I know what’s eating at you.”

“Don’t care.” He doesn’t even take a moment to think about what Zayn’s saying. It’s easier to bite back without comprehension.

“I know you don’t, but-” Zayn groans and takes a step closer to Harry. Harry can see his legs in his peripherals, “But you can’t keep fucking acting like this. It’s scary.”

“You do it all the time.” It’s true. Zayn disappears for weeks and no one says a damn thing. Harry can do the same.

“But I’m built for it- you aren’t. You’re going to drive yourself mad.”

“Don’t care.” It’s his go-to response, and he thinks it’s a good one. If he replies to everything Zayn says with ‘don’t care’, he’ll be forced to give up. He’ll leave Harry in the peace of his empty room.

“You’ve got to talk to him”

Harry was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. He already aches all over- he isn’t sure he can even talk about the boy in this state.

“I won’t.”

Zayn sits on the bed, but Harry doesn’t flinch. It’s nice to have someone so warm sitting so close. “Harry. I think you might be in love with him, and that’s- that’s a big fucking deal.”

Harry’s insides ignite when Zayn says it. He’s been trying to bury that idea for the entire time that he’s known Louis and Zayn dug it back up without a second thought. Harry turns deeper into his pillow and tries to quell the burn.

“Please leave.” His voice is muffled, but he thinks Zayn can understand him. He isn’t sure he can take his face out of the cotton for long enough to repeat himself. He’ll make a home for himself here if he needs to.

“Harry, what if you never talk to him again? And you just let your only chance to tell him slip away?”

Harry takes in a heavy breath, but he can’t will himself to answer Zayn properly.

“Leave, Zayn.”

“No, Harry. I won’t fucking leave. I didn’t think this was going to be such a big deal, I thought- I thought you both already had a thing. And pretending to be with you would just tip the scale. But now this whole thing is dysfunctional and it’s keeping me up at night. I need you to fix this.”

Harry has to look Zayn in the eye for this, so he sits up through the unbearable weight pushing him into his comforter, “I don’t have to fix a fucking thing. I need you to _leave_.”

Zayn’s eyes go cold, “You brought me into this, you’ll get me out.”

Harry sits up further, trying to use his size against Zayn like he does with Louis. It isn’t as effective.

“You’re going to leave and I’m going to go back to sleep and we aren’t going to discuss this again.” He tries to keep his tone hostile.

Zayn gets off the bed to stand, and Harry sighs. He’s too tired to stand, so Zayn wins intimidation points.

“You’ll talk to him or I will. And I won’t leave out a thing.”

“Do it.” Harry’s feeling destructive. He wants to feel everything crumbling in on him.

Zayn groans and starts to pace. It helps to drain some of the pressure in the room, but Harry still feels like he might explode.

He keeps walking between Harry’s bed and the empty one, the one that Harry covered in his school work so he wouldn’t have to look at the unused mattress. They keep silent for a while, Zayn pacing and Harry watching, until Zayn slumps his shoulders in defeat.

“I won’t say anything. But you should. You can’t fuck up a friendship that might not even be there. You’ve got nothing to lose.” It’s a loaded statement. It’s also the last thing Zayn says before he leaves the room.

Zayn slams the door, but Harry isn’t shaken by the noise. He lifts the covers and buries himself inside.

-

It only takes an hour for Harry to cave. He doesn’t look up the entire walk to Niall’s room.

He knocks three times, tries to quell the blooming emotions he feels when Louis says he’s coming, and sits back on his heels.

When Louis opens the door, it’s without a smile.

“We need to talk.” He tries his best to sound unyielding.

“We already tried.”

Harry sighs and leans against the doorframe. He can’t hold himself up for long. Not with Louis standing so close. “Not really. I want to do this proper. I’ve got a lot to say.”

Well, that isn’t true. But what he does have to say is quite loaded, so.

Louis cocks his head and for a moment Harry thinks he’s going to say he can’t come in, but he nods and backs away from the entrance, “Alright, come on, then.”

Harry gives him a small smile to show him that he’d like to be on friendly terms. He wants to keep talking to Louis more than anything.

Louis sits on Niall’s bed, so Harry stands in the middle of room. He grabs his wrist with his hand because he doesn’t know what to do with his arms.

“What was it you wanted to say?” Louis looks expectant, like he has somewhere to be. Harry would feel like a burden if he hadn’t been through the two most draining weeks of his short life. He doesn’t care how Louis feels about him being here.

“I- this is going to feel sudden.”

“Spit it out, Harry.” It’s weird not hearing him say Hazza, but maybe they’ve taken steps back from nicknames. That’s alright- they can work their way back to that.

There’s so much he wants to say at once that he has to slow himself down. He’s afraid his mouth might spit everything out before he’s ready. He doesn’t want to stutter through this.

“I was talking to Zayn, and he said I should tell you the truth. Or, like, that’s basically what he said to do. He wasn’t nice about it. But I do agree. I’m scared you aren’t going to talk to me ever again and I can’t have that if you don’t know.”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow, and he’s coming off distant, “Don’t know what? What are you getting at?”

Harry takes in a breath. He doesn’t know where to start.

“I like you a lot, Louis.” There. That wasn’t painful. He can’t make eye contact with him for fear that he’ll melt right through the ground, but at least he got the words out. “I have for a while. And I think you should know that.”

He refuses to look up from where his eyes are trained on his hands.

“What are you talking about? You mean, _like_ like? Like we’d say in grade school?”

Harry nods. Now would be a wonderful time to have Zayn’s poker face. If Louis could see him, he’d see every thought spelled out in the worry lines on his forehead.

Harry can hear Louis shifting on the bed, “That’s silly. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier.”

“You’re with Liam.”

Louis sighs, and Harry looks up to check on him. Harry feels better knowing Louis is uneasy, too.

“What do you mean _with_?”

It’s a stupid question, but Harry’s willing to answer. “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it. You slept with him. Whatever that is to you.”

Louis nods, his eyes in his lap. He almost never sees Louis vulnerable, a trait he earned from years of acting classes and coming out in sixth form. It’s always been both honorable and frustrating.

Now, though, Louis looks shaky and nervous, and he won’t look up. Harry wants to rub his back and kiss his cheek. Wants to help him slow things down.

“It isn’t anything.”

“What do you mean?”

Louis’ eyes dart up, and they’re so piercing that Harry flinches, “Are you in love with Zayn?”

That one throws Harry. He doesn’t know what to say, and he feels awkward standing alone in the center of a room that isn’t his own.

“Of course not.”

“You’re close, though?” His eyes are still trained on Harry’s. Harry doesn’t know if he’s blinked yet. It’s off putting.

“Yeah. He’s great. I wanted to talk to you about that, though.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” It doesn’t sound bitter. It sounds like he’s admitting something he’d hoped to keep buried.

Harry knows the feeling.

“We weren’t dating. Or shagging, or whatever else you’d like to call it. We just- we were acting childish.”

Louis doesn’t respond, but he gives him an expectant look, so Harry continues.

“Zayn’s got a thing for Liam, and I’ve obviously got a thing for you. So we just, like. Shit. This sounds stupid coming out of my mouth.” Harry doesn’t want to continue. He’s got secondhand embarrassment thinking about his own decisions.

“Keep going.” Louis’ face has gone blank again. If Harry stares for too long he might burst. Everything in the room is under pressure.

“So we just pretended. Just a little bit. Followed you on a date once. Dumb shit like that.” Harry prides himself on not stuttering.

Louis nods, but nothing in his features is supportive, “That’s fucking stupid, Harry.”

Harry looks down at the floorboards and thinks of all the sleepless nights he’d spent on them.

He doesn’t agree nor argue. He lets Louis’ words settle into the floor.

“I’ve got some things I’d like to say, too, then.” Louis stands up and gestures towards the bed, “Lets switch spots. Give your legs a break.”

Harry’s so thankful, but he can’t get out the words to express it.

He takes a seat on the comforter and sinks deep into the mattress. He doesn’t say a word.

“I did a lot of dumb things.” Louis says. The words leave Harry anxious, but he doesn’t open his mouth. “Me and Liam aren’t dating.”

Harry nods, but he doesn’t smile. Not yet. “That’s nice.”

“Never were.”

“Real nice.”

Louis sighs and trails a hand down his cheeks, “We didn’t do _anything_ , Hazza. I don’t have feelings for him.”

At first all Harry can focus on is the nickname, but the second sentence is brilliant, too.

“I walked in on the middle of you two about to shag.”

Louis keeps his hand on the stubble growing along his jaw, “It wasn’t true.”

Harry wants to smile, but he doesn’t. He can’t put the pieces together, quite yet.

“What’re you talking about. I literally saw-”

“How about I talk and you listen, for just a second.” He sounds cross and exhausted, so Harry nods. “Liam came back to my dorm because he needed to change out of his work clothes. I told Niall he’d be there, and he told you he’d be there, and you got confused. That isn’t my fault.”

Harry can’t resist interrupting, “You knew I thought it was a one night stand. I _told_ you I thought that.”

Louis sighs and looks down at his feet, “I thought maybe you’d get jealous. It was one of those dumb things I said I’d done.”

Harry nods, and he thinks he knows what’s happening but he doesn’t want to speak too soon.

So he doesn’t say a word and lets Louis collect his thoughts.

“I like you a lot, too, Harry. And I couldn’t get myself to say it so I thought if you thought I was with Liam it would- I don’t know, speed up the process.”

“Alright. That’s- alright.” All he can think about are the first five words he’d said.

“And I wish I hasn’t done that because we got all tangled up, and these last two weeks have been absolute torture, and I-” Louis takes in a shaky breath, and it gets Harry’s heart beating. The blank expression on Louis’ face is cracking. “I didn’t want to leave, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you and Zayn, and I fucking hated myself for lying the first place, and it was all so much that I just-” He interrupts himself with a hiccup and Harry thinks he might be close to crying.

And dear god if the thought of Louis crying doesn’t make Harry want to tear the planet apart. Wants to end anything that could’ve made Louis feel this way.

But in this case it was _him_ , so he stands up and takes the few steps necessary to be he’s toe-to-toe with Louis in the center of an empty room.

Louis doesn’t look up, and Harry doesn’t think he’s going to finish his sentence, so he tilts Louis’ head up with two fingers under his chin and presses his lips to Louis’ trembling mouth.

Louis’ hands come up to his hips and he squeezes the skin there. Everything that had been built up in the room comes crashing down, leaving the two of them vulnerable in its center. All Harry can think about is Louis’ lips against his own.

Louis takes a step toward the bed and Harry moves backward until they fall against it, Harry against the wall with a lapful of Louis. They still haven’t separated their mouths, and Harry wouldn’t have it any other way.

They keep close for a while, warm and slow and everything Harry’s ever wanted in just a few small kisses. He’s never felt more at peace. Louis isn’t shaking anymore, but he’s still holding Harry tight like he needs to be kept stable.

Louis pulls back with a final peck to Harry’s bottom lip and rests their foreheads together, “I’ve been waiting so long for that.”

Harry laughs and kisses him again, short and sweet, “We’ve only know each other a few months.”

“Feels like longer.”

Harry brings his hand up to brush his cheek because he it’s unbelievable that Louis’ sitting so close to him and yet neither of them have burst into flames.

“It does.”

Louis smiles and leans back so his arse is resting on Harry’s thighs, “But I’ve got more to say.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” It’s true. He’d much rather head back to their bed and kiss Louis for the rest of his life in their humid dorm room.

“No, I’ve got to say it. It’s been eating at me forever.”

“Alright,” Harry says, leaning up to brush his lips against Louis’ forehead, “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“God, Harry, I’m such a twat.”

“I know.”

Louis scoffs and shoves Harry further into the wall, but he doesn’t pull his hands back. He leaves them to rest on Harry’s chest.

Harry doesn’t know what Louis could be building up to. There isn’t a thing Louis could’ve done that would make Harry love him any less. He survived two weeks thinking Louis didn’t give a damn about him- he’ll survive any other shit Louis chooses to throw his way.

“There’s a lot to say.”

“I’d really appreciated if you’d just fucking say it, then.” Harry’s growing impatient. This is cutting into their kissing time.

“Alright, calm down. All in good time.” Louis fiddles with the collar of Harry’s shirt and he won’t look Harry in the eye, but that’s alright. Whatever makes him comfortable. “A few weeks ago you went out with Niall.”

Harry nods, “This is true.”

“And I knew you were going, so before you went I made Niall promise not to get drunk.”

Harry thinks Louis’ going to continue, but he stops there so Harry tries to encourage him further. “Why?”

“I told him to watch you and make sure you didn’t go home with anyone.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up, “That’s invasive.”

“You stalked me on a date, keep your bloody mouth shut.” Louis still isn’t looking at him, but he seems less tense than he had. Harry considers it a win. “And so that night he came home and, like, told me you were going to bring home. And I panicked because I couldn’t handle the thought of you with someone else so I took some superglue I’d bought earlier when I’d broken your side lamp and I put in the keyhole so you couldn’t get in.”

Harry’s eyes are so wide it hurts, “ _You_ did that?”

“I just told you I did. I’m not repeating it again.”

Harry laughs, deep and honest, before pushing Louis into the bed so they’re lying against one another. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever felt more at home.

“You’re an idiot,” Harry says once they’re settled into the mattress.

“You messed up, too.”

“The man who fixed our doorknob would get a kick out of this.”

“He wouldn’t care,” Louis scoffs.

“I don’t think anyone would care but you and me.” Harry smiles at the thought of them being a pair, now. Just the two of them on this vast, cold planet.

“Yeah. Like it that way,” Louis says. His arms are warm where they’re thrown across Harry’s waist.

Harry keeps quiet for a moment, scanning Louis’ feature from closer than he’s ever been before. He can see where his eyebrows grow a bit out of place and where his skin is red right around his nose. He’s so in love that he can’t handle it. He kisses Louis before he says another word.

“Wait,” Harry says as he pulls away, their lips sticking together the slightest bit, “I came home one night and there was a sock on the door. Why was that?”

Louis tries to squirm, but Harry has him locked in.

“I thought you were on a date with Zayn, and I thought you were going to take him home. So I improvised.”

Harry laughs again and kisses Louis on the cheek, then the nose, then down to his lips. He kisses him several times before pulling back.

“We’re so fucked up.”

Louis nods, his eyes bright. He isn’t looking away. They stare at each other in complete silence for what should be so long that it’s creepy, but it feels nothing but natural.

“And that time me and Zayn came home to a bunch of boys I didn’t know in our dorm room?”

Louis laughs and glances down at Harry’s neck, “I invited some knobs from my stats class. The ones I knew wouldn’t leave if you asked nicely.”

Harry doesn’t know what to do with all this information. He doesn’t know where to put it. His file on Things He Loves About Louis is nearly full.

He doesn’t think about how all this jealousy isn’t healthy for a proper relationship because he doesn’t fucking care. They can reach their own relationship conclusion in whatever way they’d like.

Fuck healthy.

“You look nice today,” Harry says because he can now.

“I look nice everyday.”

Harry kisses his neck as he speaks, “You do.”

Louis smiles, the same face he always makes when Harry’s complimenting him. Harry’s heart stutters.

“Wish I could say the same for you.”

Louis brings a hand up to bury it in Harry’s curls. Harry hums in response and leans into his touch.

He can feel Louis’ warm thighs against his own, can see Louis’ intense stare, can feel how slow and smooth the air feels around them. He wants this everyday of his life- he can’t imagine living any other way. No one else is going to make him feel this way.

“Gonna have to talk to Niall about all this. Seems to favor you over me.”

“I think just about everyone does.”

Harry wants to put up a fight, but there’s no denying it. Everyone puts Louis first, and it’s just as it should be.

Instead of speaking, he brings himself lower so they’re aligned and kisses Louis deep and dirty. He has to make up for all the wasted time.

And he means to take things slow. He really does.

But touching Louis sets something primal off in him, and they’re both shirtless before he knows it, hickeys lining Louis’ collarbones. He sits back on Louis’ thighs to get a better look at him.

“Hey, come back,” Louis says, and he sounds _wrecked_. Harry files his voice away for future reference.

“I wanna look.”

Harry spreads his palms across Louis’ chest and thumbs at where his nipples are starting to perk up. Harry’s very aware of how hard they both are, so he leans forward and kisses Louis while grinding down. This is all new, and he isn’t sure how Louis likes it, so he grind in deep and tries to wait for a reaction.

The groan Louis gives him is good one.

Harry kisses behind his ear, and the room is growing hot. He can see the sweat forming at Louis’ hairline. It’s so hot that Harry can’t resist letting his hands drift to his arse for something to grab.

Fuck going slow. He has Louis in his hands for the first time- this won’t be an opportunity wasted.

“God, Harry, that’s good.”

“Really good?”

“Really good.” Louis throw his head back a bit, so he’s smothered by the pillow. Harry squeezes his arse, and he can feel how meaty it is beneath his jeans. Harry moans into his neck at the thought of getting to see it in a more intimate setting. Maybe tomorrow. Right now he’s worried about coming in his trousers.

“Really, _really_ good?” He asks because he can’t resist. He can’t stop thinking about where their chest are touching. The heat of Louis’ skin is so vivid that he’s afraid he might embarrass himself right then and there.

Louis scoffs and slaps him across the back. It stings, but Harry’s so overwhelmed that it makes him groan.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“After this, though, yeah?”

Louis nods, his eyes squeezed shut, “Definitely after this. This feels so filthy.”

Harry buries his head in Louis’ neck and tries to get closer, closer, so close that he won’t know where he is. He wants to be enveloped in Louis’ warm body.

“You like it.”

His cheeks are flushed and he’s biting his bottom lip so hard it’s gone white. He’s sweaty and breathing heavy and Harry wants to see how long he can keep him like this.

“Fucking _love_ it.”

Harry won’t ever get tired of Louis telling him how good he feels. How good Harry is making him feel.

“Gonna make you come in your trousers. Right here in the bed you’ve complained about for months.”

Louis’ fingertips are digging into the flesh of Harry’s back, and it’s enough to keep Harry grounded.

“It’s so scratchy. And Niall kicks and snores.” His voice is shaky, like he’s struggling to get the words out at all. It spurs Harry further.

“You gonna keep talking, or you gonna let me make you feel good.”

Louis lets out a little grunt, like he can’t help himself, “Like messing with you.”

Harry scoffs and grind down a little further. He can feel the distinct outline of Louis’ cock, and it tempts him to pull his jeans down all the way so he can feel skin-on-skin, but right now he wants to see if he can get Louis to come in his scratchy denim.

“I know. Fucking annoying.”

“You love it,” Louis says. He doesn’t even hesitate, and it makes Harry smile. He wants Louis to know how much he cares about him- how much he’ll _always_ care about him.

“I do,” Harry adds with a kiss to Louis’ shoulder.

“Fuck, Harry.”

It’s the last thing Louis says before bucking his hips up with a shudder. Harry watches him come apart, his hair matted to his forehead and his eyes squeezed shut as he lets out shaky little breaths.

It’s enough to have Harry coming in his trousers right after. He leans forward, keeping his body against Louis’ wherever possible, and lets himself go. It’s the best he’s ever felt.

They stay like that for a while, bodies aligned, Harry letting out heavy, humid breaths against Louis’ shoulder. Louis keeps his arms wrapped around Harry’s torso, tying them together.

It’s simple, but it warms Harry all the way through.

-

Harry helps Louis move back in the next morning, and once they’re done they snog on Louis’ old bed for what feels like hours. When their lips are good and numb, Louis drags him to lunch with Zayn and Liam and Niall because ‘we’ve to talk, Hazza. And you’ve got to get off your lazy arse.’

None of which Harry can argue with, so they end up in Daly's with him and Louis on the same side of the booth and their hands entangled. It’s so natural that Harry can’t wipe the smile off his face.

“Is it finally over?” The voice is loud, and everyone the room turns to where it came from. Niall smiles, and he doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed.

Louis nods and lifts their hands, “Finally tied the knot. Got down on one knee and everything.”

Harry laughs. He’s been doing a lot of that lately.

Niall smiles and pulls a chair up to the end of the table, “I’ve been waiting for years.” He turns to Harry before continuing, “Louis’ been a right stick in my arse for weeks.”

It feels right, knowing that Louis was as affected by all this as he was, “What’s he been like?”

“Right here, you know,” Louis says, mouth around his straw.

“Been coming over at crazy times, complaining about how ‘Harry looked at me today and I swear he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t because he’s a fucking twat. I’ll just marry you, Niall. It’d be so much easier.’”

Louis’ eyes have gone wide, “I didn’t say that. Stop fucking lying to him.”

“He did. Almost daily,” Niall says. He has on a crooked smile and he’s looking at Louis like they’re having an entire silent conversation on their own. Harry doesn’t want to know.

Knowing that Louis’ been smitten with him this whole time is so overwhelming that he pulls Louis closer to remind himself that this is real.

“I’m going to get in line, then.” Niall says he’s done staring at Louis. He leaves with a loud scrape of his chair on the tile.

“Liked me for a while, Lou? Been absolutely smitten?”

“Something like that,” Louis says, looking down at his lap. He can probably sense how smug Harry feels, so he shoves Harry to the side, “Fuck off. If you hold this against me I won’t ever kiss you again.”

“You can’t resist.”

“Am I going to have to breakup with you already? Didn’t even last a day?”

Harry laughs and leans forward to knock his forehead against Louis’ temple, “I’d just wait for you to come back. Follow you to every class. I’d get weird and creepy about it.”

“You’re already weird and creepy.”

Harry hums in response and kisses the side of Louis’ head, “You love it.”

Louis shrugs, but he has a bright red blush across his cheeks. Harry’s about to comment on it when someone sit in the booth across from them. Two someones, actually.

“Together already?”

It’s Liam who's speaking, and a tiny little part of Harry still thinks poorly of him, but he knows that’ll fade soon enough.

“Yeah, just had to talk it out.”

Zayn scoffs and reaches for Harry’s drink, “Did I not say to do that, like, three weeks ago?”

Harry shrugs and watches Zayn take a long, slow sip, “It’s complicated.”

“Didn’t have to be.” He sounds so smug that Harry feels the need to squash it.

“Have you told Liam how you feel, then? You wouldn’t want to be a hypocrite.”

Zayn freezes and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, “I haven’t-” He turns to Liam with an open mouth, “I don’t-”

Harry’s seen Zayn at his happiest and his most mysterious, but this is new altogether.

Liam laughs and dart his eyes to the table, “Talk about this later, yeah?”

Zayn nods and looks right to Harry.

“Fuck you, mate.” He says it in a whisper but everyone at the table is huddled so close together that Louis and Liam giggle to themselves.

Niall comes back with enough food for the four of them, so Harry assumes he’s going to share, but he doesn’t offer them any.

Harry resents his metabolism and the fact that he refuses to be Harry’s gym buddy. He swipes a few fries to try and express his displeasure.

-

Lunch runs smooth and the food is good and Harry feels so clean knowing that these four boys are going to be in his life for a while.

Niall is loud and sociable as always, refusing to share his food but laughing when he smacks everyone’s hand away so it feels like a joke. Zayn and Louis click so well that Harry’s almost jealous (it took him months to get Zayn out of his shell; Louis did it in fifteen minutes). Liam is soft and kind and rowdy when he needs to be, and Harry thinks they’ll get on fine.

He doesn’t comment on it for fear of jinxing it, but he can see the five of them becoming something great.

He turns to Louis and watches him as he tells the boys the story of when Harry’d spilled beer all over his English professor. It’s embellished, but Louis looks so animated that Harry doesn’t comment on it. Just rests his head on his palm and watches as Louis flails his hands and smiles when he reaches the punchline.

The joke is at his expense, but Harry can’t resist leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

This is definitely going to be something great.


End file.
